


Purple Hurts But Blue Stings Worse

by NightsLikeThis



Category: WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2020-10-14 18:43:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 49,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20605535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightsLikeThis/pseuds/NightsLikeThis
Summary: Sasha hates soulmates





	1. Conflict and Compromise

Sasha hates soulmates. 

Her mother lived a long 24 years searching for a void to fill. Wondering about the royal of purple, the whimsy in sky blue, the joy in yellow, yearning for her soulmate to touch her, to see color for the first time. 

But then she met someone and their fingers brushed. Color didn’t explode behind her eyes. His either, but the electricity buzzed between them, set a spark that kept her coming back.

They never married, but two kids were brought into the world. Her mother not knowing the glow of their newborn skin, or the spectrum of their irises. 

And without color, they still were happy. She watched her parents choose each other time and time again. And mom never spoke of green pastures. And dad didn’t know the orange of his favorite football jersey. But they loved each other and that's all that mattered. 

It’s easy to hide, something that Sasha doesn’t share with kids at school. Something taboo about “breeding under false bonds”, never candidly expresses the uniqueness of her family. When people assume that her parents are soulmates, she lets them. But something about the way other kids describe it settles wrong in her brain.

“When my mom and dad met that was it, she dropped everything and moved across the country to be with him!” someone would say.

Or

“My mom left her longtime boyfriend in a foriegn country for my dad”

Or

“They hate each other, but fate is fate”

Sasha doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want to get attached to someone, just to leave them for “fate”, doesn’t want to hate someone she’s destined to be with, she doesn’t want to feel obligated to love a complete stranger, doesn’t understand how people feel that pull right away for someone they know nothing about. She wants to be like her parents. She doesn’t think the universe has the right to tell her who to love when she can listen to her own heart.

And she realizes early on that the system bares too much cruelty, as it marks people as believers or non-believers, people actively looking for their soulmate while another group is trying to make themselves virtually invisible. People that love on their own accord. People who touch and one sees color and the other doesn’t. Pain. Something Sasha wants to save herself from. 

So Sasha instigates a harsh “no touching” policy with everyone around her that aren’t her parents of her brother, Joshua. Tells teachers at the start of the school year. Strays away from helping hands and team sports. This of course creates a difficult task in finding friends that are respectful and understanding of this. Because she doesn’t want to have to explain her fears over and over, doesn’t know how to broach the subject of _ not _wanting to find her soulmate.

So most days she sits alone, and most of the time she’s glad for it. No friends brushing against her on the bench beside her, no stealing french fries and potentially touching hands, no stupid jokes and celebratory high fives. Just black and white and every shade of gray in between.

Becky comes in too fast for Sasha to stop her. Seventh grade math, second period, in the middle of January isn’t Sasha’s location of choice to make her first real friend, but fate has its own plan already set in place.

The fiery Irish teenager is a new exchange student, and of course after their teacher introduces her to the class, the only desk left is the one next to Sasha.

“Hi. Becky.” the new student introduces herself to Sasha again as she takes her seat, as if their teacher hadn’t revealed her name just a moment ago.

And usually Sasha wouldn’t move to answer, wouldn’t give anyone a chance, but the gleam of Becky’s smile guides her into thinking of the girl’s good intentions. Sasha might keep to herself, but she isn’t rude.

She moves to lift her hand in a short wave, but her arm never makes it up that high. Becky sees the movement as a motion to shake her hand and all too abruptly moves into Sasha’s space, takes her hand in a short, but definite clasp of palm to palm.

Its over quickly, but Becky can read the queasiness in Sasha’s eyes even in black and white, pulls herself away immediately, taking her seat and muttering a quiet “sorry” at the perceived uncomfy air. 

Sasha takes deep breaths, tries not to think too much of the warmth settled under skin, her first taste of touch that isn’t familial. Her vision doesn’t change, but there’s an echo of substance, a reason to believe that people aren’t all bad.

She thinks that’s it, and regrets her reaction, hoping Becky doesn’t take it personally. But Becky is different, doesn’t run from things so readily.

“Sorry” Becky offers again when the bell rings and the teacher dismisses them, “I didn’t mean to scare you, sometimes I forget not everyone is looking” she continues, alluding to the unspoken bond that they don’t share. 

“It’s okay, you didn’t know” Sasha tries to push down any blame Becky holds, shrugging her shoulders good naturedly. 

Becky nods frowning in a stagnant sort of way, waiting for new words, new direction. But it doesn’t come. She wipes her hands on dark pants, before adjusting the bookbag on her shoulder and turning away from Sasha to exit the classroom. 

But the image of her back, walking away prompts something in Sasha’s brain to reach out to her.

“Sasha” She gives the air of the empty room, save for the two of them.

Becky turns around with a smirk on her face, like the single word was a pleasant surprise. She nods again, this time looking something close to hopeful.

“See ya around, _ Sasha” _Becky uses the new information to her advantage.

And there’s a swirl of want in Sasha’s stomach, to touch Becky again and it not be a big deal, to have a friend who gets it, to have a friend period.

Luckily enough, they do see each other again, almost too soon, because they have most of the same classes. And Becky will look for her in every new class on her first day, waiting to see her, wondering where she is when they don’t have Science or History together.

But Becky finds her easily in the cafeteria, a table all to herself, sits down without being invited, steals Sasha’s fries with little protest. And Sasha smiles at her, like she’s floored by the forwardness. 

“Are we going to be friends or not?” Becky asks around a mouthful of now mushed up potatoes.

Sasha only laughs at the question that Becky makes seem like an easy sell. The laugh is enough confirmation for the both of them.

And Becky sort of saddles in well after that. They do homework after school at Sasha’s house most nights, and Becky instigates small instances of contact, sharing her goldfish crackers from the same bowl, resting her head on Sasha’s shoulder when they watch movies, playing with Sasha’s hair until she falls asleep. And Sasha does her best not to reveal just how much she loves it, just how secure it is. 

They ride their bikes to school together and to the Butterfly Cafe on weekends. They get milkshakes and fries and Becky takes the change from the cashier so Sasha doesn’t have to worry about accidentally touching him. Sasha laughs at Becky’s loud burps and doesn’t care when people start to stare from other tables.

Becky becomes a shield, someone Sasha trusts enough to listen to her fears. Becky keeps her away from uncomfortable situations, partners up with her in gym, walks in between Sasha and crowds in the hallway so she won’t bump shoulders with anyone, and does anything she can to eliminate any other possibilities. 

Becky’s parents take to calling her “Sasha’s crutch”, not understanding how a 13 year old girl could be so against “true love”, so adamant about avoiding it. Becky just shakes her head, ignores the closed-mindedness, never leads Sasha to believe that her choices are wrong. 

And Becky doesn’t feel like a crutch, she feels like a protector, needed. They would be friends regardless of the touching situation, Becky tells herself when she gets insecure. Because Sasha makes Becky comfortable, lets her be herself without judgement, makes her laugh like no one else, leaves her room to cry if that’s what she needs to do. They fit well, regardless of what the universe has to say about it.

Regardless of what Sasha wants, she’s a hormonal teenage girl, and thoughts will come and go that aren’t 100% rational. So she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about her and Becky like that, what it would be like to kiss her for just a moment while Becky was asleep during one of their sleep overs, what it would be like to grow old together.

But fairytales were hard to come by. Sasha knew how much Becky believed, knew how much she wanted “true love”, knew that any feelings weren’t worth ruining their friendship. Sasha knew that there was too much respect to ever break it, to ever make either of them go against their beliefs.

They meet Charlotte and Bayley on a bike ride to Butterfly Cafe the summer before 9th grade. It's a hot June day and Sasha keeps laughing at Becky for pedaling too slow. Sasha keeps turning new blocks realizing Becky isn’t behind her, stops to wait for her to catch up. Becky blames the summer heat of Chicago, how it’s somehow worse than the static humidity of Ireland, like she hasn’t adapted to the weather in the almost two years she’s lived there.

Sasha finally takes notice of the two other bikes a short distance behind them. Becky keeps turning back, staring at the fair-haired girl curiously. The color of her bike is unapparent, but the glitter covering the frame is what originally catches Becky’s eye. Sasha takes notice even though she can’t make out their faces from the almost 20 feet distance between Becky and herself. Sasha knows that face. Becky wants to engage.

Sasha looks at Becky knowingly as she finally catches up to her.

Sasha can see how Becky’s eyes change without color, can she the way her face lights up just enough.

“What?” Becky questions exasperated when Sasha doesn’t look away.

Sasha raises her eyebrows sternly in a silent war.

They know the conflict bubbling, there’s a silent conversation. Sasha’s never ending pleas of “what if”:

_ What if they _

_ Touch me. _

_ Question me. _

_ Are mean. _

But Becky hits back with eyes that don’t stagger back.

_ I’ll protect you. _

Sasha knows Becky is kind, is funny. Deserves more than just her. Deserves love no matter how she defines it. Sasha respects it.

So when the silent conversation is over, they end up waiting there for the two other bikes to catch up.

Becky keeps her eyes trained on the blonde turning her bike around to face them. 

“Hey” Becky calls when they’re in ear shot.

“Hi” both strangers chirp.

Sasha takes notice of her companion. A darker-haired girl with a seemingly permanent smile, she looks at Sasha like she knows secret intel, nods at her in greeting in her open flannel and backwards hat. Sasha doesn’t like the cockiness of it, immediately pegs her to be some annoying jock girl. 

But Becky introduces them, before she can back out. 

“I’m Becky, this is Sasha” she says knowing Sasha isn’t going to be forward. Sasha looks down avoiding their eyes.

“Charlotte” Becky’s object of curiosity responds.

“Bayley”, Her friend introduces herself too, her eyes never leaving Sasha.

Sasha stares back, but doesn’t return the same look of wonder, of possible friendship.

But Becky starts talking before Sasha can instigate a new silent argument.

“We were just heading to Butterfly Cafe a few blocks away. Do you guys wanna come?” Becky asks like it’s second nature, like she offers to hang out with strangers everyday. 

Sasha had forgotten how much Becky liked people, how much she liked talking to new people, finding the things that make them beautiful and human. But the forwardness comes back to her in a flash of the first time they touched.

Unfortunately for Sasha, the strangers agree to join them on their excursion.

Sasha doesn’t know how it happens, but Charlotte and Becky end up in front, leading them through suburban streets. There’s a conversation going on between them, but Sasha can only understand so much of it from her distance a few feet behind them. She grasps something about how they’ll all be starting at McMahon High in the fall, she hopes this one time hang out is just that: _ one time, _and doesn’t follow them into highschool. 

Bayley rides next to her silently, but Sasha can feel the delicate stares that find the side of her face every so often.

When they reach the cafe, they each take a moment to lock their bikes against posts in front of the strip of adjacent stores. When Charlotte has trouble pushing the lock into place, Becky instinctually offers her help, a flare of jealousy surfaces from under Sasha’s skin.

Becky waits for Charlotte to take a step back from her bike, leave her enough room to drop to her knees, get eye level with the lock, without having to touch Charlotte. The lock is pushed in with some of Becky’s brute strength.

When the group moves to get in line, place their orders, Sasha moves to find a vacant table, suddenly losing any appetite, wanting to put some distance between them even for just a moment. But just as she finds an empty table of four and takes a seat, she looks up to find Bayley standing in front of her alone.

“Chocolate milkshake?” Bayley asks like she knows what Sasha’s motive is in finding them a table, that Bayley will buy her a milkshake so she can save the table for them. It’s a startling question, like Bayley isn’t acting like they just met, like she knows what Sasha wants. 

“Chocolate’s gross,” Sasha grumbles, her hand holding her head up against the table, exhausted with the presence of all things new. This is _ their _spot. Becky and Sasha’s. No one else’s.

But Bayley doesn’t get the hint. Smiles at Sasha’s attitude. “Vanilla it is,” she answers without missing a beat, turning around to follow Charlotte and Becky in line, not giving Sasha a chance to tell her no.

Sasha always gets a vanilla milkshake. But she’s not about to admit that to Bayley of all people.

When they all return and take their seats, Becky next to Sasha of course, facing Charlotte and Bayley respectively. They seem to be in the middle of an easy flowing conversation that Sasha isn’t involved in, but she can’t be bothered to insert herself. 

Bayley sets down a cup in front of Sasha, “one vanilla milkshake for Ms.Grumpy”

Sasha rolls her eyes at the statement, but moves to pull a few crumpled dollar bills out of her pocket. But Bayley halts her at the movement, “it’s okay. My treat.” 

But Sasha knows Bayley is being too nice, especially with the short time they’ve known each other, and how Sasha hasn’t said more than a few words to her, none of them coming out kindly. And Bayley’s smile reminds her of Becky and how she so easily became Sasha’s friend. But there’s something different about this tactic. It isn’t organic. And Sasha isn’t going to let Bayley buy her things, give her reason to do nice things for her back. Sasha isn’t going to give her any room to weasel herself in. 

“No thank you,” she pulls out the money and moves to place it on Bayley’s side of the table, but the strangers hand comes up to take it from her and in an instant, Sasha is pulling back. 

And now Charlotte and Bayley are looking confused. 

“I thought you were paying me back,” Bayley asks wondering why Sasha would pull her hand back, money still clasped between her fingers right after declaring that she wouldn’t let Bayley pay for her.

“I am,” she lets out in a voice she can feel is too stern, but she can’t help it, “j-just don’t touch me” she demands.

And now Bayley looks hurt and confused and too many things that Sasha can’t read. Pity in her eyes. Perhaps a laugh coming soon. And Sasha can’t take the chance that someone would hate her for not wanting “true love”, so she tosses the money on the table and runs. Runs outside of the cafe. To her bike and wonders why she ever let Becky do this to her. Why Becky is even her friend. 

But when she feels soft hands on her shoulders while she struggles to unlock her bike, the frustration and adrenaline mounting, she knows Becky would never leave her. And a part of her hates it: that Becky won’t have better friends, who aren’t afraid of living, who don’t need to be coddled every step of the way. 

She wants to apologize, but the stubborn in her swallows it down. 

The words only come after 20 minutes of silence, riding haphazardly with no intended destination, when Sasha’s calmed down enough to let her think.

“I’m sorry”

And Becky says “it’s okay”, but Sasha knows it’s not true.

“You deserve a better best friend than me,” Sasha voices after a year and a half of friendship, an idea they’ve both toyed with but never had the guts to say out loud.

“You deserve to be happy” Is Becky’s only answer.

“Well, my happiness shouldn’t get in the way of yours.” Sasha speaks her truth, finally understanding that not saying it keeps them stuck where they are, as scary as the possible outcomes may be.

“Then why can’t we compromise?” Becky asks instead of the abandonment Sasha was preparing herself for. 

“What if we try again? And we explain the situation and if they don’t respect it, we’ll keep trying until someone does.” Becky offers like the perfect solution.

“With Charlotte and Bayley or?” Sasha wants to clarify because she’s not sure how to look them in the eye ever again. 

“I know you’re scared, but you didn’t even give them a chance to react. I think they were more thrown off by you storming out than anything else.” 

Sasha hangs her head low then, basking in the dark color of the road as they slow their pedaling to an almost halt. 

“Are you okay to try again?” 

Sasha takes a deep breath, willing herself not to puke at the idea, “yeah”. 


	2. She buries it

The next time Sasha sees Charlotte and Bayley, she’s riding her bike to Becky’s house, taking her usual shortcut through the park. She sees two bikes thrown on the grass, the glitter shining from one becoming apparent as she gets closer and she knows it must be Charlotte’s.

Looking up, she finds the two girls on the swing set a few feet away, swinging back and forth over and over. Bayley’s laugh fills the air, an uninhibited noise that throws her off guard but sends her in the right direction, and she knows what she has to do. 

She rides her bike up to them hoping they don’t run. And they don’t, but there isn’t a greeting either, something closer to them pretending Sasha doesn’t exist. 

“Hey,” she lets out shakily pulling her bike to a stop in front of them, knowing she has to be the instigator of any conversation. “I just wanted to apologize for running away the other day, I didn’t even give you guys a chance. It’s just hard for me to be around people that aren’t Becky. I’m not sure if you care, but I ran off because I don’t wanna know who my soulmate is and most people I’ve encountered aren’t very accepting of that, so I’m sorry for assuming that you guys wouldn’t either.” Somewhere along the line she realizes she’s babbling, something she does when she’s nervous. And suddenly it becomes apparent to her why, because she wants to be the bigger person for once, doesn’t think it’s fair for Becky to fight all of their battles, that “trying again” is just as much her responsibility as it is Becky’s.

There isn’t a verbal answer right away, but Bayley looks to Charlotte from their still moving swings as if to get a mutual consensus before turning back to Sasha.

“Apology accepted,” Bayley gifts her, a release of air from Sasha’s lungs follows like she’d gotten exactly what she wanted from this. 

The air changes after that, like the meeting is over, like this conversation doesn’t make them friends, but they’re not enemies either. Sasha moves to pedal on, picks up her feet from the gravel beneath her, leaves them to swing in peace. But the bike only pushes forward a couple inches before her foot returns to the dirt. Something in her doesn’t let her push on, new confidence in herself at the previous development.

“I was just heading to Becky’s, we were gonna order pizza, you can come if you want, my treat.” She offers, trying to be the more forward party for the first time. And Bayley looks to Charlotte for confirmation again.

And Sasha isn’t sure if it’s the promise of Becky’s company or the gift of free pizza, but Bayley stops pushing to keep her current speed, starts to slow down until it’s slow enough to stop with her feet. Charlotte jumps from its optimal height and still somehow lands on her feet. “Did you say free pizza?” Charlotte asks with a smile. And Sasha only laughs, waits for them to get their bikes.

It’s nothing cemented after that. Just four girls hanging out every once and awhile. A summer filled with new people and permanent boundaries. They ride their bikes and talk about things that only scratch the surface, things that aren’t soulmates. 

There’s a click between Charlotte and Becky that Sasha and Bayley can only sit back and watch, and while it’s not always silent between them, Bayley knows not to push too hard on expecting anything from Sasha.

The first day of freshman year, Becky and Charlotte brush fingers on the bus, a necessary change from bike riding to school at the new distance to their high school. Becky gasps at the shiny blue of Charlotte’s eyes. Charlotte moves to feel the orange glow of Becky’s hair. 

Sasha sees the change once she gets on the bus, knows something’s off in the way Becky doesn’t look up at her when she takes her seat alone, moving her book bag beside her so no one tries to sit there. She tries not to stare, when Becky picks up Charlotte’s hand from in between them, tries not to imagine the warmth of it, what it feels like with a soulmate.

It’s different after that. Charlotte and Becky falling together like they hadn’t before. Wanting to know everything there was to know about each other. And Sasha and Bayley would tag along to all their hangouts. Not so much because they were there for each other, but because wherever Becky goes Sasha will follow, and wherever Charlotte is, Bayley probably is too. And they’re 14 and things are far two innocent to need to be alone with your soulmate. 

Becky and Charlotte are too focused to ever let anything come between them. Never wasting a moment of fighting or asking or pretending that anything could go wrong. They don’t exclude Sasha and Bayley but they become a solid unit of four. Riding bikes, eating French fries and drinking milkshakes. They watch the sunset a lot, the lovebirds lying close together on a blanket in Becky’s back yard, Sasha sitting far away, Bayley probably somewhere finding snacks; Becky and Charlotte hold hands on the bleachers at school watching football games, and Sasha and Bayley stay at least a foot or two apart, always leaving room to not accidentally touch. Because Sasha could swear Bayley wasn’t the one, but she didn’t want a definite answer either. It’s not that she didn’t like Bayley it just sort of felt like they hung out because Sasha was friends with Becky and Bayley was friends with Charlotte.

Things shifted that Christmas. When Becky kisses Charlotte under the mistletoe in her kitchen. She texts Sasha right after and the turmoil that follows hits Sasha harder than she thought it would. A pang in her heart for the old feelings for Becky that bubble up, a sting in the way that Becky has found her happiness so early in life and she has not, a reminder that perhaps she’s wrong and that soulmates work out, and a raindrop of happiness for her best friend. Things move from primarily innocent to physical between the two. Still 14, Becky hasn’t dreamt of more than kissing Charlotte with enough force to tug at her braces, or hold her close as they sleep, but the love of it all was too sickenly sweet for Sasha. So she sought out Becky and Charlotte less and less. And turned to Bayley for friendship. They’re wasn’t much their at first. Mostly laughing at how entranced Becky and Charlotte were with each other.

But Bayley was a good listener, someone who let Sasha talk and didn’t make her feel stupid for not wanting a soulmate. Bayley was smart and kind and didn’t ever make Sasha feel less than. And Bayley thought Sasha was funny when she stopped being so serious all the time.

And Sasha steadily confided in her. About her parents and her brother and all the things that made her feel different. And Bayley did the same. Told Sasha about her fear of touching someone and only one of them seeing color. And neither of them judged the other, only validated the cruelty of the world. 

They leave Charlotte’s house one winter night without Becky, the two soulmates being too lovey dovey for Sasha’s and Bayley’s taste. They find the park and run through the ice and snow taking part in a friendly snowball fight, Bayley thinks to jump forward, tackle Sasha to the ground, not care about the implications and possibilities. But they’re friends and she doesn’t want to screw that up. So they throw snowballs from a safe distance apart until their throats are stale from the cold air, their fingers go numb from the frozen ice against their hands, and they start to shiver. When they reach the swing, the aura is different, like something soft has settled into the wind around them. 

It starts to snow softly again as they push off the ground moving back and forth in time, the metal chains of the swing set holding them up squeaking against the frozen metal pole. The slow flutters of snowflake settle onto eyelashes and hair, create sparkle in the bland of black and white. And Bayley thinks Sasha has never looked more beautiful. 

“Do you think it’s stupid?” Sasha asks watching the movement of her own feet, hoping Bayley gets it, that she doesn’t have to explain further. 

“What are you talking about? Snow is awesome,” Bayley responds, not grasping the heaviness of Sasha’s question. 

Still, Bayley’s aloof nature captures a smile from Sasha for just a second, before she’s returning to her original question, “no! Do you think it’s dumb that I don’t want a soulmate? That I don’t let people touch me?” 

Bayley’s silent then, weighing her options in the cold air. “I wouldn’t say “stupid.” You have your reasons, Sash.”

But that’s not really what Sasha wants to hear. She doesn’t want her bias in the mix. She wants Bayley’s outsider opinion. But Bayley has grown to care too much about Sasha to ever be an outsider.

“But there’s no way I come out of this happy, right?” Sasha asks again, feeling smaller than she ever has.

And it seems the switch goes off in Bayley’s head at the words. She puts her logic cap on.

“If you never let anyone touch you, then you’ll be safe from finding your soulmate. But you still wanna fall in love, right? So you’re gonna fall in love with some guy without touching him?” Sasha doesn’t know what to do with Bayley’s assumption that her soulmate is a man, doesn’t stand to correct the possibilities. 

“And then when you’re in love, are you gonna touch him or not? And if you do and you see color? Are you going to accept that or run away and find someone else?” Bayley pushes out, pointing out all the potential flaws in Sasha’s plan.

“I don’t know” are the only words that break free from her mouth.

“You gotta be willing to find out or you never will” Bayley continues when Sasha thinks the conversation is over. And part of her knows that Bayley is right, but the bigger part of her can’t break what she’s believed in for as long as she can remember.

Bayley wants to hold Sasha’s hand, kiss her, at least try to figure this out and maybe if they touch and they don’t see color it won’t matter because Sasha doesn’t want a soulmate anyway. But Bayley isn’t sure she wants love at all. But she’ll respect Sasha wishes, won’t touch her hand or brush her thumb on her cheek, or settle her palm against her knuckles when she gets nervous before a test, she won’t help Sasha up when she falls from her bike, push a loose strand of hair from her face. 

She buries it. Pretends she feels nothing when Sasha looks at her, trusts her with information. When Sasha sends her silly text messages or seeks her out first. She buries it as best as she can. 

They move idly through the school year as nothing changes. Sasha still pulls back in every instance, but they seem to move closer emotionally and Bayley can’t really ask for anything else. 

Bayley tries to do well with the normal touches of everyday, tells herself hugs from Charlotte and play wrestling Becky is enough, that her mother’s goodbye kisses and her father patting her on the back are enough. That she doesn’t need Sasha of all people. She wills herself to believe that she’ll find her soulmate, whoever it may be, through bumping them in line at the grocery store, or getting change at the Butterfly Cafe, or colliding with someone on the soccer field, friendly high fives, or greeting hand shakes. She tells herself it isn’t Sasha and she tries her best to believe it. 

Bayley walks her home that night, leaves a few inches of space as always as they walk down the sidewalk. As much as she wants to knock their winter coat covered shoulders together, or take Sasha’s gloves hands in her own, she knows she can’t, she knows it’s too risky. They watch the sky morph from pure white to steady gray as the snow ceases and the night takes its place. There’s comfort there, even Sasha can admit that. That Bayley makes her feel like nothing is too important to ruin friendship, like maybe fate threw them together in the same way that Becky had come her way. And maybe Bayley wasn’t like Becky, not as harsh or all encompassing. She was slow and thought out and caring for everyone she’d come in contact with. And maybe Sasha doesn’t deserve her, but she’ll take her time in ruining it. Won’t push too hard when it comes to the things she’ll deprive them of. And maybe Bayley will stay even when she too realizes Sasha is a burden. 

Sasha finds herself having cold dreams in the nights that follow. On icicles, in igloos, where Bayley doesn’t walk her home, where Becky moves back to Ireland, where Charlotte is a lone face passing in the hallway. And she’ll wake up shivering hoping someone would hold her. She falls asleep again dreaming of Bayley’s dark eyes and what color they might be. Wondering how warm Bayley’s arms could keep her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2 it’s getting real. We’re moving kinda fast...but this is more narration than like drawn out moment per moment detail...it’s more like a poetic overview which I’m enjoying...
> 
> It’s getting emo in here but just you wait


	3. Bayley wants color, and Sasha doesn't

Sophomore year Becky convinces Sasha that her hair would look good purple. And even though Sasha has never seen the color she agrees.

A good axis point for teenage rebellion comes in the form of going behind Sasha’s parents back and dying her hair without their permission. 

“It’s not like they’ll see it anyway,” Sasha says as a joke but no one laughs.

They make plans to do it at Bayley’s house, because her parents work late and there’s an old sink in the garage they can use to wash out the color without tracking purple marks through the house.

But the venue serves as Bayley’s only addition to the plan, because she’s the only one who can’t touch Sasha. She watches as Becky brushes out Sasha’s long hair, before Charlotte takes the reins on making small sections to work bleach through. 

They laugh at the shower cap Sasha wears over her newly bleached hair as they wait for it to lighten her hair. 

When it’s time for the purple, Charlotte and Becky rave about how vibrant the dye is as they pull it through small strands of hair working their way from the hairline above Sasha’s neck to the one above her forehead. The talk about color leaves Bayley and Sasha feeling left out, a moment of knowing eye contact every time one of their soulmate friends tries to describe purple to them like they have anything to compare it to. 

Bayley’s hands itch when Charlotte and Becky start to get tired of the repeated motions, she wants more than anything to feel Sasha’s hair even if from the other side of a plastic glove, but she knows it’s too risky, knows it’s not something she can insert herself into. So she listens to Charlotte talk about the colors she can’t see, and Becky complain about Sasha having too much hair, and watches Sasha’s eyes as they move in thought. 

When the colors all in and they’ve waited the necessary time before rinsing it out, they put Sasha’s chair against the sink to let her lean her head under the sink water. Bayley can see the darkness of the color as it mixes in with the sink water, wonders vaguely if she could go down the drain with it, if she would show against the clear of water, or if she’d vanish indistinctly.

They move to Bayley’s bathroom to let Sasha see the finished product. They towel dry her hair leaving stains on Bayley’s white towel, but she can’t bring herself to care about the repercussions when Sasha’s looking at herself in her bathroom mirror like that, when Charlotte and Becky keep babbling about how good it looks. Bayley remains quiet, removed, something seemingly unnoticed by the rest of the group. But Sasha’s eyes find hers in the mirror more times than she’d ever admit. Pupils shine as if they are waiting for Bayley’s approval, but her mouth remains shut.

But the celebration of a plan followed through is cut short when Charlotte gets a call from her mother asking her to come home, and of course, Becky offers to walk her soulmate home. And Bayley is left with the last thing she wanted right now. To be alone with Sasha.

“You okay?”Sasha asks from her place in front of the mirror, still admiring the slight change of a lighter shade of gray she now perceives her hair to be. 

Bayley only lets out a soft “mmhmm” from her spot seated on the edge of her bathtub a few feet away.

“You sure? You’ve been quiet.” Sasha says and it’s startling, not because Bayley thought she was doing a good job of concealing her sadness, or whatever numbness she’s feeling right now, but because she’s still surprised every time Sasha shows that she cares.

Bayley nods this time with more conviction than her previous answer, and Sasha doesn’t really believe her, but she’ll let it go for the time being.

“Do you like it?” Sasha changes the subject, referring to her hair as Bayley has been completely silent on the topic. And she looks down at Bayley like the answer really matters.

“Yeah,” she replies and she means it.

Bayley likes the brightness of it, wants to run her hands over the sleek edges but doesn’t. Likes the way it makes Sasha smile when people compliment her.

Charlotte always says it’s pretty, even weeks after. Braids sections during study hall with Sasha pressed against her. Bayley wishes she could feel that warmth. Becky curls it for her on her birthday, and against Bayley’s warning, the curling iron gets too close to Sasha’s neck and burns her. Bayley wishes she could be the one holding the ice pack to Sasha’s neck.

Purple hurts like a caged butterfly, like raindrops not allowed to fall. Bayley yearns for freedom, but purple strands ground her back to square one, because she can feel the pull of gravity, but the universe guides her heart another way entirely. And Sasha stands at the end of that force. But Bayley can’t close that distance. Can’t listen to the universe when Sasha can’t hear its voice. 

And sometimes she thinks Sasha feels it to, the want for something more than separation, more than far away friendship. But it’s never something they talk about, even when soulmates come up, Bayley never says “I think it’s you” and Sasha never says “I want you because I don’t think you’d make me see color”. But days drag on where Sasha dreams of someone holding her and it being more than friendly, where black and white still frames everything around her, but kisses come too. 

And Bayley may have wondered how Sasha could have feelings for someone she’s never touched, but Sasha had silently proved her wrong, because butterflies had a little wiggle room in Sasha’s stomach, enough space to flutter whenever Bayley was around. But they didn’t have free reign or enough room to stretch out their wings. And Sasha wanted to let them be free sometimes.

She’d dream of reaching for Bayley’s hand without fear that she wouldn’t learn the color of Bayley’s skin, that the sky wouldn’t flash blue in front of them. That Bayley wasn’t her soulmate, but that she’d love her anyway. 

But Sasha didn’t know where Bayley stood in all of this. She’d always been someone to touch others freely, to spin through life in a tender swirl of care and companionship. It never seemed that Bayley wanted anything less than to find her soulmate. So Sasha tries to resign the idea of there ever being a chance, that Bayley would love her without color.

It’s spring by the time Sasha works up the nerve to ask.

They’re fulfilling their bi-monthly tradition of watching the sunset in Becky’s backyard. There aren’t as many trees on her block leaving a more open space to watch the horizon meet the sun. Two blankets are laid out, one dedicated to Charlotte and Becky, where the two soulmates have once again fallen asleep before the sun could make its final dissent, even though the weather is still cool and the sun sets around 8, Becky’s head resting against Charlotte’s chest, her arm coming around her to pull the shorter girl closer. It’ll be Saturday in the coming hours so the other two won’t need to wake them anytime soon. Sasha tries not to stare too closely, tries not to think about it going wrong for them, tries not to compare their close proximity to the gapping space between her and Bayley a few feet beside them. 

“Do you ever wonder about your soulmate?” Sasha questions in a small voice, moving her gaze from two heads pressed together to her left, to Bayley’s face on her right. It feels like all they talk about is Sasha’s issue with it, and not the golden possibilities Bayley has at her fingertips.

Bayley lays there on her back, her hands behind her head, her elbows pointed out, stagnant. She doesn’t twitch at Sasha’s question. Lets it find the air, but catches it before the light evening wind can take it away.

“Yes and no” Bayley starts, not wanting to divulge too much of her brain, but she realizes Sasha is still waiting, still wondering.

“I think about how we’ll meet, how we’ll touch, and what color will be like, but I don’t think about what they’ll be like, or what they’ll look like,” she offers mostly because it’s true, but also because she hoped Sasha’s face is the first one she gets to see in color, she knows Sasha already, better than anyone else, “I mean the universe created someone with me in mind, so I’m not worried about getting along,” Bayley finishes chancing a look over Sasha’s shoulder at Charlotte and Becky, dragging her eyes back to the sky, trying to minimize her view of Sasha’s reaction. 

“You’ve never heard of soulmates that don’t get along?” Sasha asked incredulously, she has to reel back the urgency of it, remind herself that not everyone stays up late at night like her, researching studies about “rare ill-paired soulmates” who see color when they touch, but don’t love each other, don’t feel emotionally attached.

“I have,” Bayley answers quickly, “but it’s extremely rare.” And Sasha knows that’s true, knows the statistics of it all. But still the possibility strikes her wrong, like she’d be destined to be that person, ruined by all the things that could go wrong. But Bayley doesn’t seem worried, like she’s willing to take the chance.

And a voice rings in Sasha’s ears that she marks as the devil’s, it screams “who wouldn’t risk it when it could mean being in love?”

The sun buries itself behind the horizon, leaving them to speak into the dull light of what’s left, the stars start to emerge as Bayley continues. The sky is too many colors that neither of them has ever seen, but they keep the tradition for Charlotte and Becky’s sake (even if they are asleep) and Bayley and Sasha can bask in the aftermath, even in black and white, stars shine. But Sasha doesn’t look up at them as they become more clear, watches Bayley instead take on the cloak of the night. 

“My mom used to tell me about her friend when I was little” Bayley says like they aren’t 15 and she’s wise enough to know what all this means, “about someone she knew in high school. She was transgender, but when she met her soulmate she wasn’t out and still presented as a man

“So they got married, had kids, the usual soulmate stuff,” Bayley continues still looking at the twinkle of distant light instead of into Sasha’s eyes, “but color and love wasn’t enough, she still felt trapped, like she could never be herself, she confided in my mother through letters and my mom tried to convince her that everything would work out”

Sasha can’t imagine it: being in love and still feeling empty.

“Did she ever tell her family?” Sasha asks because Bayley pauses and she can’t bear the silence.

“She told her wife” Bayley leaves it at that, giving Sasha one last chance to stay away from rotten information.

“And?” Sasha pleads and Bayley can’t really blame her.

“She shot her. She died instantly. I remember going to the wake with my mom. And I’d never met her before but looking at her in that casket, a bullet wound to the head that they did their best to cover up staring back at me, knowing she’d spend eternity dressed in a suit and not a dress. It made living more real somehow, like I had to make every moment worth it, like maybe it could be my last. It made all of this less of a joke.”

“Why would you tell me all that?” Sasha asks feeling put up against a wall, “make me even more scared of finding my soulmate?” 

“No, Sash,” Bayley says in words that reach out where her hands can’t. “I told you because it’s one of the things that makes me want to find my soulmate so bad, because I want to be a person for them that would love them regardless of who they are, or what they want, I want to be a soulmate that does everything in their power to make them happy.” 

And Sasha gets it now, can see it in the way Bayley respects her wishes of not touching her. She can see why Bayley touches so freely, accepts people exactly how they are, tries to guide lightly but never sets her hands down hard enough to push, because she wants to be a safety net of trust, a beacon for acceptance and comfort. Bayley wants her soulmate to find a home in her eyes. She wants them to feel like they can be themselves, can tell her anything, can change the world beside her. And Sasha has to respect that.

Still, something nags at her. Because Bayley said she wanted to live every moment like it was the last, but how could she feel content to die slightly separated from the muddy grass of Becky’s unkempt backyard by a thin blanket, why was she spending so many fleeting moments in Sasha’s company, letting her push too hard against the love that she believed in, letting her worry herself sick. Sasha could think of thousands of better places to be, better places to die than beside her.

She’ll cry late that night, after Bayley walks her home. She’ll cry for the person that she could’ve been for Bayley had she not been so attached to keeping her at arm's length. She cries because maybe in another world she isn’t so messed up and maybe they could be soulmates and Sasha would be happy to see color if it meant getting to hold her. Or maybe a world exists where soulmates don’t, where Bayley thrives in saving kisses for Sasha and Sasha isn’t afraid to push onto her tippy toes and receive them. 

And Bayley finds herself falling into herself on her own walk home. Because Sasha could never let her in like she wants her too, not without one of them backing out. Because they both want to love each other, but Bayley wants color, and Sasha doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost in regards to Sasha’s chronicle: I am so proud of Sasha/Mercedes as a human being for not only going through such a difficult time and coming out on the other side, but also for being vulnerable and sharing that with us. She’s helped so many young girls and for her to be real about mental health and how life isn’t easy most of the time (even when it might seem to everyone else that everything in your life is perfect) is so inspiring. It’s beyond encouraging to see people achieve their dreams, especially when they (like you) have mental obstacles and are open about the reality of depression. I’m so happy that she feels like she’s in a healthy place now. And the scope of THEYRE friendship is probably something we’ll probably never truly understand/get to see, but I’m thankful for what we get to witness, because it’s truly a great example of two women who support each other in life first and everything else second. And I just respect them so much. 
> 
> And I know there is such a community that she’s built where we get to be joyous in the wake of her successes and I’m happy to know that her messages are reaching people like all of you. I hope you guys know that the comments and my messages on tumblr are always open for anyone who feels alone, or needs to talk, or for anything. No one deserves to feel like they’ve lost themselves.
> 
> Anyway: here’s a really emo chapter. Sorry bout it. More emo to come, don’t worry.


	4. Ignorance isn’t bliss

In summer, Sasha’s hair starts to grow out. Even Bayley can see the darkness of her roots begin to show as the brightness of purple fades into a less stark gray. The sun takes hold of the bleach and brings it to the surface, the lightness of each strand something hard for Bayley to keep her hands off of. 

And it feels like the cycle repeats. Friendship barred by the ability to only get so close. Like going through the motions of staying out of each other’s way while wanting nothing more than to free yourself from it. 

So Bayley sits back and watches the process take place again, when Sasha decides after a few inches of black hair has re-emerged that she wants it purple again. The process of watching idly as Becky and Charlotte bleach her roots and re-dye the lot of it purple again. And this time it’s worse because even after Sasha cuts off her split ends haphazardly standing too close to Bayley’s bathroom mirror, there’s still a lot more hair than the last time. So Becky complains extra hard at the end of every completed section, and even though they all know she’s joking, that she would still do anything for Sasha whether it be dying her hair, or dying for her, Bayley doesn’t think it’s funny anymore. That Becky gets to complain about being that close to Sasha.

And Sasha will look for Bayley’s approval again, even though it looks as good as it did the first time. 

But pitied apologies start to come out of Charlotte’s mouth when they’re alone, just her and Bayley, something rare in it being just the two of them again, like middle school: before Sasha made Bayley think too much.

Charlotte notices. The way Bayley looks uninvolved, uncaring. The way she looks at Sasha like she’s the color she’s missing. The way Sasha reaches out in every way but physical. The way she looks at Charlotte and Becky with a mix of jealousy and desire.

So she’ll say things like “don’t worry, Bayls, you’ll find them”, when Bayley seems particularly out of focus. Or “I’m here” when she’s looking lost. And Charlotte will do her best to hug her, hold her up, be there in every moment she feels alone, but Bayley touches her time and time again, and still never learns the blue of her eyes, or the pale blonde of her hair. It’s not what she wants and Charlotte knows that, but she can’t give her purple. 

She can’t give her the reprieve from worry that she needs. And Charlotte is so worried that she tells Becky. Because this hole Bayley is digging herself isn’t healthy. Putting all her eggs in Sasha’s basket, when Sasha has no room to hold onto them, no place in her heart to let Bayley find a home. 

And she hopes like nothing else that her friends will find some sort of common ground. Because more than likely, they aren’t soulmates. And maybe Bayley’s love could withstand no color, and maybe they could respect the planned intensity, the mutual want without knowing, and maybe that desire can grow because Bayley seems to be all in, but Charlotte doesn’t know if color is a defining factor anymore. 

Not when Bayley smiles at Sasha like that, not when Sasha checks in on her if Bayley stays home sick from school, not when Bayley only trusts Sasha to drive her car even though she’s the last one to get her permit. Charlotte isn’t sure color has the power to change the way they feel. Because Bayley buys Sasha lunch when she forgets her lunchbox at home, and Sasha always pays for Bayley’s chocolate milkshake at the Butterfly cafe, and Bayley gives Sasha her jacket when they have to run laps in gym class, and Sasha lets Bayley copy her math homework without question. Because it seems like something cemented between them, like a stiff cocoon keeping them in place, holding in all the change until it bursts free. Charlotte only hopes they can withstand the fall out. 

And Becky notices the worry settled against her three friends long before Charlotte brings it up verbally, but she chose to stay silent, hoped she wouldn’t feel the need to intervene. But the protective layer she’s always held for Sasha has molded itself against Bayley too, and she can’t stand to see the pining. But Becky has always been more intense than Charlotte, something in the deep husks of breath between each burdened syllable, a practiced fire within her eyes, a passion that comes out in protruding veins and clenched fists. And usually no one has to see that side of her, especially since the stupid jokes and thoughtless bullying at Sasha’s expense has mostly died down. 

So Becky screams into the void more like a scream than Charlotte ever does. Because Charlotte is motherly, careful, planned out. In the way she tries to comfort the worry out of Bayley’s forehead, but Becky can’t stand to watch the pining, the fear course through her, the unrequited desire. 

So she asks Bayley to talk. And sure, Becky’s voice over the phone sounds blunt as ever, well intentioned, so Bayley agrees, even though the swirl of her stomach tells her not to. Because something about it doesn’t settle right: Becky wanting to talk, alone. 

And Bayley will find her on her front stoop, sitting on the short set of stairs that lead up to her front door. 

Becky looks regal in the afternoon sun, the flare of it playing off the highlights of her hair. It only serves as a reminder that the view would be better with color. Because Bayley has always known Becky to be pretty, when they were riding bikes together for the first time and Becky looked so much younger somehow. And now she looks wise, like a place she’s found in Charlotte’s heart that taught her everything she needed, quiet in the sunshine, relaxed. But even then Bayley couldn’t fight the nag in her chest that drew her to Sasha instead. Sasha and her attitude. Sasha and the way you could look but not touch.

And Bayley knows deep down what this is about. So she sits next to Becky and awaits her fate.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” Becky starts, a clear indication that she’s about to provide some unsolicited advice.

“But,” Bayley interjects for her before Becky can get the word out.

“But you have to move on.” 

Bayley can’t compute that, doesn’t know what that could mean for anything she’s ever believed in.

“I know that’s easier said than done,” Becky continues when Bayley doesn’t speak, “But I don’t want either of you getting hurt” 

And Bayley understands that, has run all her options through her head a million times, knows there’s no way this works out, not in this plain of existence. 

“Okay” Bayley’s mouth moves around the word, but her heart turns to jelly at the sound of it. Acceptance. For what’s inevitable. That Sasha and Bayley could never have it all, could never be happy. 

And against the physical pain that pushes down on her chest, seems to suddenly fill her lungs with water, she really wants to try. To save them from the blood and the guts of what could ruin everything they have. Ruin the friendship and the glory of respect. And at the end of it, Bayley rejoices at the fact she gets to remain idle; that she doesn’t have to move closer to any concrete answers, because knowing is scary. And not knowing isn’t bliss, but it leaves room for chance.

So she’ll try her hand at setting her sights in other people, will touch and hope and keeping touching until she finds them. And she’ll do her best to forget the everything that she’s giving up. 

And it gets harder when boys will ask her out, invite her to basketball games. It’s a nightmare when girls compliment her, speak so lovingly, because it’s a reminder that she’s holding back. 

And Sasha will ask her “why?” Why aren’t you trying to find your soulmate, why aren’t you giving anyone a chance, why are you here with me instead?

Bayley shrugging it off is getting old quickly. She doesn’t know how to tell her, how to change the mess she’s put herself in. Part of her enjoys the pain, the darkness, afraid of the consequences of a life with no clouds, because happiness is scary. 

But Becky will look at her intensely, and Charlotte will rub her back, and she’ll know she has to try harder. And it works for a while. She’ll go on dates and most of them are nice, but she won’t let them touch her hand at the end of the night, steers away from goodbye kisses, doesn’t call them back. But Becky and Charlotte don’t need to know that.

But she wants to never do it again when she sees Sasha’s face when Becky asks her about her date at lunch the next day. 

“Date?” Sasha says in a voice that Bayley wants to believe is more pain than surprise.

But she doesn’t have long to read the exclamation of it, because Charlotte is saying “Yeah, did you meet the one?” under a giggle, as if they wouldn’t have received panicked texts about it if that was the case.

Bayley hangs her head in shame, a “no” goes unspoken, but they know the situation isn’t a joking matter, not when Bayley is still looking defeated, not when Sasha doesn’t look like she wants this conversation to happen.

“Don’t worry,” Charlotte reminds her once again, “they’re out there somewhere” pushing against her shoulder to get her to stop looking so glum.

But Bayley only has eyes for the girl sitting across from her. The one person she can’t have.

And Bayley knows she’s only 16. She knows Charlotte and Becky are lucky. That meeting your soulmate so early doesn’t happen often. That she has the rest of her life. But she doesn’t want to wait. When her heart is telling her clear cut answers. When Sasha means everything to her.


	5. The challenge of happy endings

Junior prom is sort of the last place Sasha wants to be. With the being forced to watch other couples be happy. The fact that she couldn’t touch someone for even a moment. The fact that she’d be stuck far away from any potential threats. But Charlotte and Becky were kind enough to drag her to the mall and find her a dress she’s already forgotten the color of. And they’d spent the day together, the three of them, Bayley preparing alone with her mother against her will. 

And Sasha thinks that maybe it was better that way, with Bayley out of sight, but unfortunately not out of mind. It felt good to put in extra effort, look in the mirror and see someone that was beautiful on her own without needing to be tied to another person. It didn’t stop her from wondering about how Bayley would look in her dress, or the fact that she had a date. 

So Sasha sits alone at a table in the far corner of her junior prom, a location she’d been secured in since her protective bodyguards, Becky and Charlotte, left her there about thirty minutes ago. She watches idly from afar, pitying the part of her that wants to join her classmates, but elated at the fact that no one is touching her. She wonders vaguely if this will be her fate for every prom, for every party, for every occasion that has more than 4 people attending. 

Bayley hasn’t said a word to her all night, which is strange considering how close they are these days, but eye contact has been rampant. In black and white, the dimmed lighting of the large room makes it difficult to see the little nuances of movement, but Sasha can feel Bayley’s eyes on her more times than she’d like to admit. Sasha watches as Bayley takes on the role of a social butterfly, perhaps a version of her she’s never truly seen, because Sasha keeps her away from all this. Because perhaps Bayley is Sasha’s friend, but Sasha is Bayley’s crutch. Sasha watches as Bayley talks to friends she had never spoken to in front of Sasha, dances in the crowd seeming like she doesn’t care that she’s potentially touching 10 other people at once, dances quietly in her dates arms.

“Dash Wilder”, of all people.

Becky had told her before they’d gotten to the party. “Dash Wilder?” she repeated even though Becky hadn’t stuttered.

“Mmhmmm” Becky hums like it should mean something, like she knows exactly what the information does to Sasha’s stomach.

And it wasn’t really that Sasha thought he was undeserving, he _ is _ nice, and handsome. But the roaring jealousy in her stomach only confirms the inklings of truth that had been swirling around her stomach for almost 3 years now, she’s _ in love _ with Bayley.

It dawns on her sometime later as she’s watching them slow dance that Bayley and Dash have touched before, no color, and questions why Bayley is entertaining this guise of a relationship. She has to remind herself where she is, the formality of a prom date, soulmate or not, that just because Bayley is dancing with him doesn’t mean she’s willing to be with someone, to love someone who isn’t her soulmate. 

Sasha watches him pull Bayley closer by the waist, her arms around his neck, but she wills her eyes away when she thinks Dash is going in for a kiss. Her gaze doesn’t land in a much better place.

Charlotte and Becky. Looking in love as ever. They’re close but casual, it's not sloppy skin pressed to skin. It’s them holding each other like they’re properly ballroom dancing, Becky’s leading (the consequence of whenever someone makes the stupid comment of “who’s the man in the relationship?” Becky’s comical answer of “me, of course”), and Charlotte’s laughing as they move in a botched type of waltz. Becky feigns ignorance of course, like she can’t fathom why Charlotte is laughing as they trip over each other’s feet and bump into other prom-goers. Becky goes in for small pecks on Charlotte’s lips in between her laughter. And it’s cute. So cute, in fact, that Sasha finds herself smiling for just a second, forgetting about her pain, her darkness. But the weight settles harder against her when she comes back down from the clouds.

And she realizes that’s something she’ll never experience. Color. And someone she’ll love unconditionally, without caring about the people around them, or wondering if they feel like she does, or finding validity without having to search for it. Love will never be at her fingertips, never in her own hands. The possibility of heartbreak will always be there, the possibility that whoever she ends up with will find their soulmate and leave her, the likely possibility that no one will think she’s worth the headache to begin with. 

So she stops looking at them too. She tries to find Bayley in the crowd again, a sight of pain, but something different than what she gets from Becky and Charlotte, less certainty, more yearning. But she can’t find her, resolves herself to her cell phone for the time being.

“You okay?” comes a voice in front of her. Her heart wants it to be Bayley, in some twisted fever dream where she asks her dance and kisses her and nothing ever goes wrong. But it's not.

“Dash Wilder” of all fucking people.

“Yeah,” he starts, suddenly nervous at Sasha stating his name, “you were all alone and I just wanted to make sure you were good”

And Sasha was right. He _ is _nice. But it doesn’t make her feel any better about the fact that he’s with Bayley (in any capacity). It only makes her realize that Bayley deserves more than she could ever give her, soulmate or not.

“I’m good” she answers finally, taking a sip of water to calm whatever storm is brewing in her veins, even though her insides are crumbling in on themselves.

“Cool” Dash answers, his hands finding their way into his pockets. He turns to survey the rest of the room, but doesn’t walk away.

Sasha wonders vaguely why he cares, why he’s still standing here. They aren’t enemies, but they definitely aren’t friends either. 

And she wants to question his actions, but doesn’t want to come off rude either, so her brain settles for “Where’s Bayley?” after another moment of sheepish silence.

“Oh, She’s outside. She said she needed some air” he answers quickly, like he’s being interrogated.

“And you thought it was a good idea to come talk to me?” Sasha chimes back, she can feel the bite of her tone, can’t take it back even if she didn’t mean it like that.

“Uh, yeah. You’re friends with Bayley, right? And I know we’ve never really talked, but you seemed kinda lonely, so-”

“Thanks, I guess” Sasha cuts him off, saving him from the rest of his strange explanation. She offers him a half smile, something uncommon for her to spare practical strangers, but she can see that he’s being genuine.

For a second, it doesn’t feel like every moment is so valuable, that she can be comfortable with someone she barely knows talking to her, making sure she’s okay. That Bayley can dance with him and it means nothing. She can pretend for a moment that they don’t live in a world where searching for your match isn’t always everyone’s main priority at all times. That Bayley hanging out with her every weekend instead of looking for them isn’t some anomaly. That Dash can talk to her and it not be about wanting her to be his soulmate. 

Bayley finds her sometime later when most of the festivities have died down and half of the students have left.

She sits at the table with Sasha, an empty chair conveniently between them. Sasha wishes she could move, tell Bayley to come closer, but that’s too much to ask for. 

“Dash said you were being weird to him” are Bayley’s first words to her. Sasha has imagined their interaction all night. Bayley telling her she looked beautiful, a quiet hello, but it seems Bayley couldn’t spend more than a moment looking at Sasha until now. And Sasha knows Bayley isn’t accusing her or pushing her around, just stating what Dash had told her.

“He was kinda weird too” Sasha answers because it’s the truth.

And for the first time since they became comfortable with each other, some time after Becky touched Charlotte for the first time, there's an awkward silence. And no one moves to break it. Like this was the big life altering thing that Bayley had chosen to start the first conversation of the night with her best friend. Like Dash has suddenly become a wedge in between them and neither could understand why. 

And it starts a cycle of panic, that perhaps not only could they never have more than friendship, but that Bayley could never find a soulmate without leaving Sasha behind. That’s more crushing than anything really, that their friendship can’t withstand Bayley loving someone else, for too many reasons. Because Sasha couldn’t bare to watch it, because Bayley wouldn’t need her attention anymore, because it would prove to Bayley that anything she felt for Sasha wasn’t destiny.

“You look good tonight”, Sasha finally says, tired of waiting to be on the receiving end of Bayley’s attention. 

“You do too” Bayley keeps her eyes down, doesn’t move to look at Sasha as she returns the compliment. 

And that’s how Becky finds them, looking lost and anywhere but each other. 

“Do you think I could get a ride with you guys?” Bayley asks Becky, knowing she was their driver.

“What? You’re not going back to Dash’s place?” Becky jokes wiggling her eyebrows. Sasha tries and fails to reign in the death glare she sends her.

Bayley just sighs, like she’s tired of all of this, exhausted by the dramatics, the loyalty, just wants this whole soulmate thing to disappear.

Becky coughs embarrassed, a small “sorry” that leaves her mouth when she sees the look on Bayley’s face.

They drive home: Charlotte and Becky in the front, Bayley and Sasha in the back. The two spaces are like separate worlds. Sasha watches as Becky and Charlotte’s joined hands rest on the center console, tries not to concentrate on the way it’s performed so effortlessly, without a second thought. Because Charlotte and Becky’s relationship has always been overbearing, but it’s been years now of constant pure love shoved down her throat everyday. And yes, she loves them more than anything, everything they’ve done for her, the friendship they’ve always given without ever going back on it, but it hurts more than it helps these days. Because there isn’t hope behind her eyes. There’s just a static.

A static of wanting and never receiving. Wanting Bayley, or maybe anyone really, to love her.

She tries to tell herself that everything is temporary. Tries to find the logic that everything works out in the end, but her brain won’t have it, doesn’t want a challenge of happy endings. 

Bayley sits staring out the car window closest to her, watches the street lights as they pass by in Becky’s hand-me-down SUV. It’s kind of old and it makes clicky noises when she turns, but it’s faster than any of them could bike ride. Sasha watches her, as the light inside the car moves over her face, the glitter on her eyelids, the shine from her lip gloss. 

She zones out the sounds of Charlotte asking if they had fun tonight, the sound the car makes as they turn onto Bayley’s street. She just stares and tries to commit this image to memory. 

Of Bayley. Sitting there and seeming so static, so innocent. Because she knows she’ll see her later this week, the first days of summer, and maybe things will be different, they won’t break out their bikes because Becky has a car now, but she’ll see her, even if they are getting too old to camp out in Becky’s backyard and watch the sunset.

She’ll be there, but it won’t feel the same. Because they’re only getting older, and somethings got to give, because they’ve been living like this for too long. Sasha can see the worry lines in Bayley’s forehead that weren’t there when they first met, knows the tightness of her jaw, the way her fists stay clenched, like she’s stopping herself from being honest, keeping her hands far away from doing the wrong thing.

A lone tear escapes Sasha’s eye as Bayley moves finally, says her goodbyes, thanks Becky for the ride, and gets out of the car. Bayley doesn’t notice the tear, maybe because it’s dark, but also maybe because she barely looks at her.

But it feels like a final goodbye, like they’ll never be the same again. Because Sasha knows she has to set her free. Whatever this is to Bayley, whatever she thinks they have, has to stop. It’s too much of a burden to have hope. Sasha has to let Bayley find her person. And it becomes a little more clear everyday that her person isn’t Sasha.

She seals herself when she sees Bayley open her front door, even though all she wants to do is cry, cry like there’s nothing else to do. She promises herself then, to push Bayley away, no matter how much it might hurt both of them, because keeping her at arms length isn’t doing them any good either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry that its still really sad but like hang in there...


	6. return to black

Ignoring Bayley is easier said than done. Sasha tries to rebuild the walls that once kept them apart, but she knows one look into Bayley’s eyes makes them crumble. The defenses have to be stronger than that.

So when Becky texts the group chat telling them to meet at her house to head to the movies the first day of summer, she knows she has to weasel her way out of it. 

She replies to the message saying she’s feeling sick and can’t come, which isn’t exactly a lie, because the freshness of her wounds, the new predicament she’s found herself in only cause stress, put too much pressure on temporary scabs, push harshly against the butterflies in her stomach, and all of it is dizzying, sort of makes her have a headache, makes her want to puke.

She resigns herself to her bed, the covers pulled up over her head as she buries herself deeper into her pillow, only lifting up slightly to see a new response to her “sickness” from Bayley: alone crying face emoji.

But she should have known better than to think Bayley would take “no” for an answer. She can hear someone ring the doorbell, but thinks nothing of it until footsteps are coming up the stairs and Bayley is standing in the threshold of her door frame.

“Your mom let me in” Bayley explains herself without being asked, looking sheepish and feeling unwelcome, she stays by the door like she hadn’t been in Sasha’s room dozens of times.

But Sasha looks at her like everything is okay, like the last thing she wants is for Bayley to feel like an outsider. Bayley can sense the clarity in the darkness of Sasha’s eyes. She moves closer suddenly feeling more comfortable, sitting in Sasha’s desk chair near the foot of her bed. Sasha watches the space between them shift. But still thinks “not close enough”, not close enough to break the spell, or push forward new intentions. But she’s supposed to be pushing Bayley away, not pulling her in.

“You okay?” Bayley speaks again when Sasha doesn’t move to fill the silence.

“Yeah, I’m just- I don’t know, I just don’t feel good” and Sasha wishes she could explain it better, the way her brain won’t let her push out of bed, because getting up is logical, but the emotional strength it takes to get up and shower and be a functioning human being seems vacant as of now, like the gas tank in her brain was getting too close to empty and now she doesn’t have enough to make it back to the gas station to fill it up, like the ache in her bones is a symptom of too much movement and too little all at the same time. It's kind of a travesty that she can’t put it into words that other people understand, but Sasha has never needed words, not when it came to Bayley.

“No, I get it” Bayley offers when she sees the trouble of trying to explain on Sasha’s face, and she does. She can understand the feeling of helplessness, being stuck to a mattress with imaginary honey and motionless bees, “But maybe if we could get you out of bed, like getting out for a little while might help you feel better” 

And Sasha knows Bayley has the best intentions, knows looking at the same four walls for hours only reestablishes the cycle of psychosis, that bed isn’t always the best place to feel better. But the plan was to keep her distance, stay the course of pushing Bayley away. 

She contemplated telling her off, saying something cruel and out of the blue, to shut her up, and send her packing, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Not now, when Bayley came over just to make sure she was okay, to try to make her feel better.

And for once she has to give up.

“Okay” Sasha sighs like she’d just agreed to something a lot deeper than getting up and going to the movies.

Bayley smiles like Sasha just granted her an all access pass to Six Flags for the entire summer and the sight makes her want to look away, save herself from thinking things like “you made that smile happen” and “god she’s so beautiful”, but the smile takes up too much of her room to just ignore.

“Why couldn’t you just let me be sick?” Sasha grumbles as she pulls back the blankets and starts to push out the warmth of her bed, sounding like she’s already regretting her decision.

“I can’t third wheel Charlotte and Becky alone! We always third wheel together!” Bayley jokes and the sentiment of it makes Sasha laugh, as if everyone around the two soulmates is only an unwelcome addition to their established camaraderie, that Bayley and Sasha are a unit that make them the “third” to the group.

It’s kind of strange the way Bayley always bunches them together. Sasha passes it off as the way they've gelled together as a group of four, but the hope that Bayley can’t see a life, a day without her is the underlying hope. But Sasha knows not to hope. 

Hope gets her nowhere, because rugs can be pulled out from under her, people can walk away, and nothing is permanent. Not Bayley walking beside her or the fear laced into her muscles and joints. The only constant she’s ever known is the black and white of everything around her, and most days she can’t dream of losing it.

So she doesn’t sit next to Bayley at the movies, doesn’t engage in any direct conversation, let’s Becky and Charlotte steer the interaction, steers clear of seeming like a friend.

She tries again when she gets home, away from Bayley’s big eyes and the way they make her melt. 

“You’re a coward” she tells herself as she pulls out her phone to text Bayley.

_ I need some space _

_ From everything _

_ From everyone _

_ Just please dont take it personal _

She types, sending each message one after another in quick succession.

_ Okay. _

Is the answer she gets.

She kind of hates it, that she sent that, that its tangible, that she can’t take it back.

Sasha hates herself in that moment.

“You’re a coward” her brain repeats again, for saying something she didn’t mean, for pushing away her favorite person, for blaming the universe instead of herself. 

And she kind of hates Bayley too. Because she said “okay”, let Sasha be stupid, let her ruin this more than it already was.

Summer kind of stays like that. Bayley had always figured this summer would be different, the one before their senior year of high school, somewhere in between freedom and shackles. She thought they’d find a sense of peace in their dwindling childhoods, in the forced growth soon to come. She’d thought they’d all spend it together. Becky, Charlotte, Bayley, and Sasha.

But Sasha kept her desire for “space” and Bayley didn’t know how she couldn’t respect that. So she third wheeled on her own, let Charlotte and Becky hang out on their own, stopped showing up to things. She thought that maybe adults were right about not being friends with your classmates forever, that people came and went as they pleased, that some friends just didn’t stick. 

When they were 14 and she’d watched Becky and Charlotte kiss, shared a grossed out expression with Sasha before they broke out into laughter that this was forever, that watching the sunset was sort of getting old but she’d want the memories when they eventually stopped. She thought riding their bikes and having snowball fights would be stories she’d want to tell her kids about. That this friendship was one of the constants that kept her going. 

But everyday that they weren’t all together, reality became clearer and clearer. And it was heartbreaking.

And it wasn’t because of the soulmate thing, it wasn’t because Bayley couldn’t touch Sasha, it wasn’t because she didn't know. 

It was because there wasn’t a Bayley and Sasha anymore. Or a Becky and Sasha. Or a Charlotte and Sasha. The girl was missing and with her gone everything seemed to fall apart. 

Bayley wants that friendship back more than anything, regardless of the lack of color or clarity that comes with it. But more than that, she just wants Sasha to be okay. 

So she waits, and hopes that the space she’s allotted will bring to Sasha whatever she’s looking for. 

When school starts again, the dynamic shifts once more. Sasha can’t hide in her room, can’t pity herself as she waits for time and feelings to pass.

All four of them have first period together. When Bayley looks into Sasha’s eyes for the first time in almost 3 months she feels like she’s looking at a ghost, like a friend she’d grieved the death of a long time ago.

Bayley says “hello” as she takes a seat at the desk next to her because she wants to, because she’s tired of “space”, tired of loss. 

Charlotte sits behind them, puts a hand on Sasha’s shoulder as she passes between their desks. Sasha sort of forgot what that was like, being reached for by someone she cares about, the touch she’s always yearning for. And Bayley doesn’t look jealous that she can’t do the same, seems content in the fact that Sasha isn’t walking away.

Becky joins them a moment later, looking tired, not acclimated to waking up early for school just yet. She looks sleepy, but happy as she approaches them.

“Well, would you look at that, looks like we got the band back together” she praises, the smile evident in her voice as she looks between her 3 friends.

Sasha just smiles sadly in response, realizing the pain she thrust on all four of them as a result of her poor decisions.

Space and time had done nothing other than make her want her friends back, make her want to touch Bayley more, made her sad and lonely, and worse off than before she had been friends with any of them. For them to let her back in without a second thought, without an apology seems crazy, but it sort of settles into something close to normal.

Because they’ll sit together at lunch and Charlotte and Bayley will do they’re Calculus homework in the library after school, while Sasha and Becky train virtual ducks on the school computer, but they don’t really hang out outside of school.

Sasha doesn’t text them, and they don’t text her. No movie nights, or watching the sunset. No milkshakes at Butterfly Cafe.

No one brings up soulmates.

“You’re a coward” plays frequently in Sasha’s head, but she can’t get it to stop.

Bayley will take it as progress, whatever they have is better than the previous radio silence.

Sasha’s running through the hallway 3 weeks into the new school year and she knows it’s probably not the best idea. But Becky isn’t at school today, something about spending the day with her grandmother who’s visiting from Ireland, Charlotte’s class is on the other side of the building, and Bayley and her have sort of been distant.They aren’t fighting by any means, but Sasha tries not to ask Bayley for things, and Bayley acts like she’s not willing to drop everything for her. Leaving Sasha with no hallway bodyguards. So she’s left to walk to her history class alone today, an easy victim to open skin and phantom touches. Less than a month into the school year and she’s already gotten herself 3 latenesses to this class. And Mr. Bryan has threatened detention if she’d garnered any more. 

And it would be completely logical to walk patiently behind the 9th graders with short legs who walk too slow, it would make sense not to push through and possibly touch someone, possibly suffer the consequences. It would be a good plan to stick to her usual mode of operation, staying close to the wall, moving efficiently enough to stay out of people’s way, be cautious, and take the detention knowing there was a good reason to be late. But something in her brain propels her forward through the crowded hallway, somehow learning who her soulmate is is put on the back burner, and getting to class on time is more important than ruining everything she’s ever believed in.

And Sasha tries to tell herself that it’s fine. That the chances of brushing against whoever the universe has deemed her soulmate is probably slim to none. Because she’d have to assume that they went to high school with her, which narrowed down most possibilities in the world. And that against all odds they happened to be in the same hallway as her at the same time, close enough to actually touch her.

A part of her brain rings for the running to stop, that finding them now would be her unpracticed fate, that this is exactly the turmoil she deserves for fighting the inevitable for so long. But she only blinks the fear away as she turns the next corner at full speed, suddenly more motivated by the threat of detention, the threat of Mr.Bryan’s disappointed look as he hands her a pink detention slip.

But blinking serves her wrong. 

She’d hoped for a moment of clarity, a millisecond to reign in the nerves of it all, but she opens them to find something, _ someone _ she hadn’t seen before.

_ Bayley. _

Standing right in front of her in black and white, a light around them that pierces the darkness of shadows. And she tries to hit the brakes on her feet, but the action is already in motion as she propels herself straight into Bayley. 

Sasha isn’t sure where skin connects first, if its hands grasping Bayley’s shoulders, their heads smacking together, or the uncalculated force of torso slammed into torso.

All she knows is that she's on the floor a moment later, and that her head hurts. 

Bayley bends down in front of her limp body in a rush, her knees hitting the floor almost as hard as Sasha’s head. She holds Sasha’s head up from the hard cold tile, and Sasha can feel the wetness there. Blood.

But the sensation of static in her head is suddenly less important as her eyes open for the first time after impact.

_ Brown. _

Bayley’s eyes. They’re brown.

She can see the pale gold of her skin and the light blue of her shirt. The red in Bayley’s lips. 

She moves to reach out to touch her again, because Bayley is still holding her head, but she wants to feel her under her own fingertips. But she can’t feel her hands, isn’t sure her arms aren’t made of lead.

“Sasha” she can barely hear it, but she knows it's coming from a scared Bayley in front of her. The call of her name continues, but the sound only becomes more distant. 

Bayley stops looking at her and Sasha feels somehow even more lost.

“Somebody help” the words catch her ear like a whispered scream. She wants to tell Bayley to calm down, that she’s fine, but she can’t make her mouth move, can’t get herself to sit up. 

There isn’t enough room in Sasha brain to deal with so much trauma at once. The adrenaline, the shock, the call for blood to her brain and oxygen through her veins, so she isn’t worrying about the color, wondering if Bayley sees it too. She’s almost sure she doesn’t. Bayley’s eyes open wide in fear, not in new discovery. A nightmare come true, not a pleasant surprise. 

She feels like she’s floating, or dreaming, and waking up will solve all of this anyway.

The hallway starts to empty. The lockers around them are stained and chipping, but they’re blue. The bell rings. Sasha registers the high pitched chime as her eyes slip closed again.

She can feel Bayley fight with her to keep her eyes open, but color is exhausting. She seals her eyes for good against Bayley’s prodding.

And her world returns to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry bout this... like i knew this is where we were heading the whole time and i still put yall through all the precursor angst...and i lowkey feel guilty about it...but not guilty enough to post...
> 
> we gotta develop a fucked up story arch from the get go and then like ...fuck it up until its too fucked up to fuck up anymore...ya feel
> 
> anyway i'd like to say its all up from here...put that would be a lie...
> 
> Sorry i love you!!!!


	7. i told you so

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry for this one yall

Bayley isn’t sure where skin connects first, she’s just sure that it does. 

But there isn’t time to focus on anything other than the harsh thud that comes after it, the sound of Sasha’s head bouncing off the floor. 

_ Purple. _

Purple hair is the one thing she’s certain of as she searches Sasha’s motionless face. 

Bayley bends down in front of her limp body in a rush, her knees hitting the floor almost as hard as Sasha’s head. She holds Sasha’s head up from the hard cold tile.

Red and purple mix as blood pours from the back of Sasha’s head and coats Bayley’s hands. Everything feels too loud as she shakes her, calls out her name.

“SASHA” But there isn’t an answer.

“SASHA CAN YOU HEAR ME?” The pleas get more desperate, but there still isn’t any motion, just Sasha’s eyes focusing and unfocusing on Bayley’s face.

“SOMEBODY HELP” Bayley calls but the hallway starts to empty. The lockers around them are stained and chipping, but they’re blue. The bell rings. 

When the ambulance comes Bayley is almost as motionless as Sasha who’s eyes have been shut for the last 15 minutes.

It’s a hard task prying Sasha out of her arms, lifting her dead weight onto the gurney and carrying her into the ambulance. Bayley watches on, lets them whisk her away.

It’s a flash of all the things she’s gained, and all the things she’s lost. Her hands are still painted crimson with Sasha’s blood. The ambulance lights flash red and blue as it races to the hospital. Sasha’s hair was purple. She could see it now.

But it didn’t feel like she thought it would. Finding her soulmate wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be looking at the sky for the first time and taking in the expanse of radiant blue. It was supposed to be exploring the delicate intricacies of each other’s eyes. Finding new colors and falling in love. And for a moment she thinks she deserves it. Because she should have touched Sasha a long time ago. Should have ruined her life a lot earlier than right now. All the hope settles somewhere far away. It leaves her feeling so empty.

Principal Hemsley tells her to go home, that she’s excused from the rest of her classes. But she knows she isn’t going anywhere but to Sasha.

Too afraid to face Becky and Charlotte in a moment so coated in the unknown, she rides her bike the 30 minute distance without bothering Becky for a car ride. The blood on her hands is mostly dry now but the streaks remain ever present, somehow darker, firmer into her skin. It smells like metal. 

The wind blows through her brown hair as she rides and it takes every bit of selfishness with it. 

She loves her. She has for a long time, and this only cements that, but the truth can be so exhausting. Because Bayley had always wanted to be a person her soulmate could trust, that she’d never try to change them, never force them to believe something or be someone they’re not. 

Sasha doesn’t want a soulmate, so Bayley promises herself not to confess to any colors, pretend that she doesn’t know about the purple of Sasha’s hair or the caramel of her skin. She’ll wait for the truth to show itself after Sasha can see the spark of love. And still she can’t be sure that Sasha saw color too, especially when she’d lost consciousness so quickly. The world looks different, so coated in ever-growing shades. She watches cars go by, red and blue and green and gray. She watches the clouds move against the clear cerulean sea. She watches her yellow converse as they pedal her forward. 

It’s awful and spectacular at the same time. The world she hadn’t known about right under her nose. It feels freeing, like she was no longer under the need to keep a secret, but somehow it locked her up under not being able to go back. 

She washes her hands in the hospital bathroom before asking for Sasha’s room number. Watches the blood swim through the sink before crashing down the drain. It feels surreal, like a life she’s known of but never lived before. It smells like blood mixed with hand soap. 

Sasha’s hospital room is the closest thing she has to returning to a world with no color. The lights are too bright and every surface shows white. Sasha’s bed sheets, the walls, the monitor tracking her heart rate, the gauze wrapped tightly around her head. The beeping is just as unsettling as it is grounding. 

She takes the seat next to her hospital bed. Resting her hand over one of Sasha’s, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. A reminder that she’s alive. A comfort for Bayley more than anything. 

The doctor tells her they’ve notified Sasha’s parents. She texts Becky and Charlotte then, let them know what happened, doesn’t say it was her fault, doesn’t say that they touched. Doesn’t talk about color.

Becky picks Charlotte up from school and they head to the hospital right away. Becky gets a text from Sasha’s mother that they’re on their way. 

Sasha wakes up to the sound of Bayley’s phone beeping from Becky’s response. It’s not a delicate opening of eyes, but a visceral thrust of sitting up suddenly. And Bayley is touching her shoulders, willing her back into bed. 

The touch throws her off until she’s remembering, reliving the color for the first time. But Sasha settles the fear away. 

_ Bayley. It’s just Bayley. _

Bayley, who doesn’t say anything about the color, who isn’t looking at Sasha any differently. Who isn’t acting like they’re soulmates. 

And for the first time, Sasha thinks there’s a chance that Bayley doesn’t see it, isn’t the one, that color didn’t bloom for both of them. Sasha is stubborn, won't let on to her new found freedom if she’s the only one to take part. So she doesn’t say anything either, Bayley doesn’t need to know if Sasha isn’t her soulmate anyway.

But a larger part of her just wants to cry. To cry because the world is cruel, electing such a harsh reality. Of Sasha seeing color and Bayley not.  _ Of course,  _ Sasha thinks, as the world gives her what she thinks she deserves. But the part of her that hates herself sings  _ i told you so.  _ That this is what she deserves. She should have been more careful.

But the feeling of Bayley’s hand in hers, keeps the tears from falling. Love swells in her stomach against the pain in her head. She basks in it for a moment before pushing the intensity away. It’s not right, it isn’t her fate, not without Bayley. For a while they sit there, a mess in their heads, but silence on the outside. Bayley holds Sasha’s hand and she lets her. 

The thought strikes Sasha that maybe this was all meant to happen, that touching Bayley and seeing color gives her the freedom to find someone to fall in love with without being afraid of finding color. Because she already has it. And whether Bayley knows it or not, Sasha can finally be comfortable with other people, can fall in love without fear. But still, something pulls at her heartstrings. Bayley doesn’t have color, but the idea of her with someone else, still feels otherworldly to Sasha. Like drowning in 2 inches of rain and feeling safe in the suffocation.

Becky and Charlotte burst into the room out of breath, like they had been running, the door crashing open from Becky’s force, but the passion of it stops when they see the scene in front of them. The quiet of Sasha and Bayley is startling, almost as much as the fact that Sasha seems fine, save for the bloody gauze around her head and the distant look in her eyes.

“You’re okay” Becky voices quietly through heavy breaths like she’s trying to convince herself, trying to push down the adrenaline. Charlotte stays quiet beside her soulmate looking relieved.

“She cracked her skull, and has a concussion, but the doctor said she’d be fine” Bayley shrugged, giving off a calm vibe, too conflicted about everything to let one thing spill out over any other emotions.

Charlotte sighs like the worry is over, but confusion takes hold as she zeros in on Bayley’s thumb stroking over Sasha’s knuckles. “Wait, you guys touched?” she asks, clearly trying to piece it together. 

Becky pauses too, suddenly furrowing her eyebrows. Bayley doesn’t get defensive like Sasha expects her to, she just offers a calm, “Yeah, no color.” Bayley looks at them with finality, but doesn’t gaze up to meet Sasha’s eyes. 

“Really? Nothing?” Becky interjects after a moment of silence, no longer hiding the amount of surprise she holds in Sasha and Bayley not being soulmates. 

“Nope, nothing,” Sasha confirms, sounding almost happy about it, a little taken aback that her friends had guessed they’d be soulmates. If they only knew: of the color, and the inability to reveal it. 

“Doesn’t matter anyway. Sasha doesn’t want a soulmate” Bayley feels the need to add, like the information is new to any of them. That’s what sells it to Sasha, that Bayley couldn’t possibly have seen color, or else the disappointment laced into her voice wouldn’t be so apparent.

And that’s probably what sucks the most: that Bayley is still alone, that Sasha found what she didn’t want, and Bayley knows what she can’t have. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so how are we after that????
> 
> i sent this chapter to Uma pre-posting cuz i wanted to make sure it made sense...(sis really read this while sitting in traffic dont be like uma kids) and sis called me while i was at work cuz she was HEATED ...and i cant blame sis...i lowkey played yall
> 
> sidenote: i was reading something that was making fun of the way new yorkers speak and i was like "Nah this aint me" and then i be typing shit like this^^^^ in the end note
> 
> um anyway pls dont hurt me


	8. force or fate

Perhaps the world has a way of pushing its agenda regardless of the circumstances. Because things change again in a way that is certainly bittersweet, a mode of operation where the worry of the last 4 years is collapsed, but so much more uncertainty is born. Because Sasha knows now, an insufferable circumstance of seeing color, opens a door of freedom, where she can love anyone, but Bayley and not be afraid. And Bayley, although her worst nightmare has come true, can touch the only person she’s really wanted to for all their time in high school.

So it flows together, like an enigmatic river of new discovery, where there isn’t fear in being so close.

It starts with small touches that sting, like a reminder that they don’t need to press so much room between each other. Bayley will brush Sasha’s purple hair out of her face, pull stray debris from her face, rub away fallen eyelashes from her cheek. Sasha will warm Bayley’s hands in the darkness of the chilly movie theatre, rests her head on her shoulder on the bleachers at Charlotte’s volleyball games, let their knuckles brush as they walk through the halls.

Bayley tries not to jolt out of her skin at every instance of touch. Tries not to look at Sasha like she is everything. Sasha looks for other romantic opportunities, pushes down the feeling of butterflies and safety, pretends Roman in her English class has prettier eyes, tells herself the cashier at Butterfly Cafe could love her without color.

It’s a push for intimacy where they’d previously had none. And boundaries are placed too far from pure friendship. But a touch-starved Sasha can’t help herself, and Bayley let her get away with too much. 

So Sasha will ride her bike to Bayley’s house on the night that her thoughts become too much. Finding her bike in the back of the garage is a reminder of how long its been since the first time they met, shows how much time has passed since everything felt normal, without the possibility of losing each other. The bike is red and rusted and a little small for 17 year old Sasha, but the racing of her mind can’t win any longer. 

The ride to Bayley’s house sort of feels like a passageway to happiness, like a free ticket to friendship that had never been so stressful. The darkness of the night gives her a break from the pressure of color on her eyes. Street lights shine white as they mark her path against the stagnant blacktop, the dirty gray of her bicycle tires, the reflective silver of the spokes, her blue converse show dark and colorless as her laces shift with the movement of her feet.

It feels like a prettied dream and a hurtful nightmare at the same time. Because the idea of going back is sort of comforting. _ The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.  _ Like life wasn’t so bad without the confusion of cobalt and the reality of red. Like a friendship of uncertainty was easier than knowing that Bayley doesn’t know. But killing off this new version of herself feels wrong too. Because touching Bayley makes her heart sing, like she’s free from the complex sufferings of life. Like even through this turmoil, the universe still has a plan for her. 

She leans her bike against the side of Bayley’s house, trying not to make too much noise that would wake her parents. It starts to rain as she walks toward the backyard where Bayley’s bedroom window sits.  _ Fate  _ Sasha thinks, that the rain had only begun when she got to her intended destination to keep her here, to stop her from turning back in a moment of insecurity. She thanks the universe silently for the coincidence that Bayley’s room is on the first floor and moves to look inside through the thin space Bayley’s window curtains aren’t covering. She knocks three times, each occurrence harder than the first, but there isn’t an answer. But there isn’t room for giving up right now, not when the touch she craves is so close. 

She moves to lift open the window from the outside hoping that by some miracle Bayley left it unlocked. Sasha reassures herself again that this is destiny when the glass pane moves against her strength. The frame shifts up quietly as Sasha pushes against it, the smooth sound not quiet enough to keep Bayley asleep. 

Half-open eyes peek out from behind a blanket, as Sasha moves the curtains to look inside Bayley’s room.

“Sasha?” Bayley mumbles into her blankets, wondering if she’s still dreaming. She scrambles up from her bed, pushing the blanket off her, and moving toward the window facing Sasha through the square hole. “What are you doing?”

But the calm of cool raindrops on Sasha’s warm skin suddenly turns fast and heavy, the crack of thunder stops any words for the moment, because Bayley is taking Sasha’s hand from the window sill and pulling her into her room.

The room feels light against the harsh rhythmic puddles forming and the continued crashes of thunder outside. But Bayley closes the window forcefully to break up the contrast, stop the rain from coming in, the sound of it clicking into place is the last loud sound, as the burst of unwanted weather turns into a muffled uneasy pitter-patter of raindrops against the roof, wind against the window, thunder somewhere far off. 

It settles them somewhere strange as Bayley turns to look at Sasha. She shivers lightly in the darkness of Bayley’s room, water dripping from Sasha’s hair onto Bayley’s carpet. Bayley can make out the twinkle in Sasha’s eyes, but not the purple of her hair. It’s a startling moment of being in love without color, a reminder of who they are, and what she wants regardless of the position of the sun. Still. She knows its something she can’t have. They stay entranced with each other in the low light, where Sasha is trying to think of an excuse to be here without sounding absolutely crazy, or blowing her cover, or both, and Bayley is trying to remember if this is what Sasha looked like before she knew about the color she granted her.  _ Yes. _

But a sudden bolt of lightning shoots down close enough to light up Bayley’s room for just long enough to remind them of the trauma, just long enough to highlight the purple of Sasha’s hair, the gold in Bayley’s eyes, the contrast that wasn’t there before. 

It throws them apart, Sasha no longer looking for the things she could live without in Bayley’s face. And Bayley scrambling to grab a blanket to warm up her  _ friend. _

“Here” Bayley holds the blanket out to her and Sasha takes it, tries not to look disappointed as she pulls it over the back of her shoulders, disappointed that it isn’t Bayley’s arms keeping her warm.

The brunette takes a seat on the edge of her bed, but Sasha remains standing in front of her. Sasha’s eyes find the floor, but Bayley doesn’t stop looking at her, wondering when it had become so awkward between them.

“You gonna tell me why you’re here, or should I call the police for breaking and entering?” The words some out sharp, but groggy. Sasha knows it’s a joke, Bayley could never be so harsh to her, but she finds that she has to remind herself that there’s room for things other than seriousness in the air around them.

“Technically, you’re the one who pulled me inside” Sasha reminds her, “seemed pretty consensual to me”.

The words escape her easily. A joke. Something they always do, but the thickness of the air, the darkness around them makes it feel like flirting, like towing a new line Sasha had just drawn in the sand. It makes her contemplate every other instance of communication.  _ Do her jokes always sound so...Does she talk like this to Becky or Charlotte?  _

Bayley visibly sighs and Sasha knows the joke is over, pushing them into new territory of perhaps Sasha being honest. Sasha sighs then too, pulling the blanket tighter around herself and finally sitting next to Bayley.

There’s dull contemplation in the dark. Sasha wondering vaguely how not to tell the truth, while Bayley puzzles out the possibilities. She tries to distance herself from any conclusions that mean Sasha seeing color. Because the thought that Sasha was her soulmate and hadn’t told her was too overwhelming when she was playing the same game of deception. And the idea that someone else brought her the intricacies of olive green and the spark of pumpkin orange was just as crushing. 

“I don’t know.” Sasha starts with her eyes trained on her hands in her lap, “I just missed you.”

It’s honest. But it doesn’t answer any questions, or calm any awaiting nerves. And sure, they’d just seen each other at school yesterday, a reminder that things have sort of gone back to  _ normal _ as far as their group of four, but Bayley missed her too. It just seemed odd that Sasha would be the one to admit to it.

Bayley sort of hates herself for it, but she doesn’t stop her hand from stopping the ministations of Sasha twiddling her thumbs, drapes Sasha’s forearm over her shoulder and pulls the shorter girl against her.

The hug feels like a trap. Like a stollen comfort of only good things: blue butterflies, the smell of freshly cut grass, the feel of Bayley’s hair tickling her cheek, the push of her breath against the shell of her ear, Bayley’s chest pressed to hers, the synchronized rise and fall of rib cages.

It's a paradise. One she can’t have. It pulls her in like it's trying to convince her that this is all she’ll ever need, when she knows color could never be the answer she’s looking for.  _ She could never love me the way i want her to. _

But Sasha pushes her luck. A moment of pulling away from the embrace turns into getting lost in Bayley’s eyes. The momentary plan of running away, never looking back is crushed as soon as Bayley speaks to her.

“You can stay” It’s not a question or a plea. Bayley leaves Sasha with the whole deck of cards, lets her choose who wins and who loses. And leaving into the cold rain without the warmth of Bayley’s hands on her face feels more like a loss. So she stays.

Sasha kicks off her shoes and socks, frees herself from the dampness of her jeans. The cold air hits her legs and she crawls into Bayley’s twin bed before Bayley can hand her dry pajamas. She haphazardly throws the blankets over herself trying to keep warm, but nothing is better than the feeling of Bayley coming to lie next to her.

There’s a pounding in Bayley’s head that makes her contemplate the self-sabotage. Because she shouldn’t be fueling anything that could be interpreted as more than friendship, because Sasha didn’t see color, because Sasha doesn’t love her, because this will only make it harder for both of them. 

But at this point she just wants to go back to sleep. Prolong the time she’ll have until she has to think about this again.

A small part of her hopes that Sasha will love her, that the universe gave Sasha exactly what she wanted: someone to love and no consequences of color. And Bayley was just the sorry sap that had to deal with never really knowing whether Sasha’s love was forced or fate.

Sasha lays facing Bayley on her side, her arms secure around her waist, Bayley’s ribs against Sasha’s inner elbow, her cheek pressed against the rigidness of Bayley’s collarbones. Bayley’s arms wrap lazily around Sasha’s neck and shoulder blades, holding the back of her head from moving.

Sasha doesn’t move to kiss her, even as her heart beat grows more relaxed at the proximity, she breathes more evenly, as sleep chases her down through a field of yellow daisies. She hates how easily Bayley has her in this vulnerable state, how simple it would be if Bayley saw color too, if she wasn’t so against the fate of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter felt kind of weird to write cuz i wasn't really sure where it was going, all my notes on my phone deleted which i where i had plans for this fic so i kind of had to re-access all of it and puzzle it out again of where were headed...
> 
> when i first started this i thought it would only be like 8 chapters, and then i said like 12 maybe but idk anymore. im kind of emotionally attached now and im dragging it out. MOre angst SO SO SORRY
> 
> this one wasnt that bad tho...


	9. breaking Bayley's heart

There’s a static for a while where Sasha and Bayley live in a world in which color doesn’t matter. They look for each other more often than before, a call for a need they can actually fulfill. Touch. It’s always been there, the desire to reach out, the want for more. But now that they’ve gotten a taste, the craving only becomes more intense, more all encompassing.

And it isn’t the worst thing in the world. Because even though Charlotte looks at them funny for cuddling so closely on movie nights, and Becky keeps teasing Bayley about her inability to differentiate green and red shells in Mario Kart, it's hard for them to care. Because there’s some form of ease that comes with being in each other’s company, regardless of the lack of color. 

And it’s a difficult time of necessary decisions: college and splitting up. Sasha will express her fears to Bayley in the darkness of her room, because Sasha makes a habit of sneaking in through her window, crawling into bed with her. She tries to convince herself that this isn’t everything she’s always wanted, that this is something to get over, not to dwell on, but she can’t deny the magnetism, whether Bayley sees color or not. 

Bayley had convinced Sasha to apply to DePaul University with her last year, before color had made everything so complicated. She’d applied to a handful of other schools too for good measure, but it seemed like DePaul was a good fit. 

They offered a well reviewed Creative Writing program, tuition wasn’t too bad (with scholarships), it was far enough to dorm, but not too far away to get homesick or feel stuck there, and Bayley was probably going there too. 

“Pete Wentz went there” Bayley would remind her to make her laugh, to stop her from worrying so much about the change it would bring. And it's not like they would have classes together, Bayley would be majoring in Soulmate Studies to learn about the little known of the science behind the phenomenon, to further the research. But it still meant they’d be close. 

Bayley’s choice in major did throw her at first. There had always been curiosity and there had always been a worry, but Sasha hadn’t realized that Bayley was that interested in figuring this out, in understanding something the world had been left in the dark about. Most people found their soulmate or didn’t, moved on with their lives, never gave it the cycle of time that Bayley spent contemplating all the gears that made it work. So it made sense to a point, but Sasha didn’t want to think about what it could mean. Because perhaps she’d learn why she hadn’t seen color, perhaps their fate was testable, and maybe the malfunction of Sasha seeing color could be reversed, maybe she could be free.

As stressful as it all was, the idea of them being separated was just as terrible as their current predicament. 

But it’s barely winter and Sasha has a while before she has to make a final decision about where she’s going to college. The choice still weighs on her, wondering what she has to do to get what she wants. She still has to decide what she wants. 

Because it would be easy to keep Bayley so close, but how can she explore the possibilities of other people without telling Bayley why she suddenly isn’t afraid. And how could she explain the situation to any potential love interests. And how would Bayley react when Bayley, Charlotte, and Becky have always been her everything. 

It’s an emotional crisis that calls for something drastic, so when she orders new purple hair dye, and blue comes in the mail, she doesn’t think about returning it. 

Becky holds the box up to read the label a few weeks later when Sasha had called upon her friends once more to embark on the task of dying her hair. 

“This is Sapphire, not purple, Sash” Becky tries to warn her, still believing whole heartedly the lack of color surrounding Sasha.

“Oh,” Sasha releases looking closer at the box in Becky’s hands, it’s enough to convince the other three girls that it’s genuine surprise, before she entertains it once more with an uncaring shrug, “it’s still gonna look gray to me anyways”

She tries not to look like she’s focusing in on Bayley’s reaction to her words, but the moment of eye contact makes her feel caught, like Bayley knew something she wasn’t letting on to.  _ Bayley couldn’t know. There was no way. _

But the moment leaves them before Sasha has too long to dwell on the shattered pieces of brown iris in Bayley’s eyes.

The task feels far from trivial. Sasha hadn’t experienced the spark of Bayley’s fingertips against her scalp (even through plastic gloves) when it was just Becky and Charlotte bleaching her hair. It took less time than the last few occasions that they took part in helping Sasha, because now it was 3 pairs of hands instead of two. And Bayley was glad that it was less than their standard 3 hours, because the close proximity was only a reminder of their friendship, only served as a place to think too hard and stay quiet, plus the smell was starting to get to her.

The mix of bleach and dye caught the air in Bayley’s garage and stayed there, a puff cloud of chemicals that it made it hard not to think about the sting in her heart, the way Sasha sat so still amongst the chaos that was her mind, the contrast of Bayley’s thumping heart and steady hands. 

It pushes deep contemplation of what blue means for them and how she can solve it.

Because blue stings like a fault line of hand sanitizer in a fresh wound, like a charge of electrons that only make themselves more negative. Like a car crash that almost kills you but not quite, takes breath only long enough to wish the darkness had taken you with it. 

Blue feels like a caterpillar settling into its cocoon for solitude and not for growth, like a tadpole swimming towards its demise. Bayley doesn’t know why but when it’s all done, it feels wrong. 

She knows in truth, the blue in Sasha’s hair is probably just something she’ll need to get used to, but she can’t help the way it feels like the end of an era, shoots them to a new place of change, where mountains won’t be easy to climb.

“You like it?” Sasha asks just Bayley in a moment that feels like their alone.

“Looks the same to me,” Bayley tries to force a laugh, but her eyes crinkle too much with her smile, something’s off even if Sasha can’t discern exactly what.

And that complex energy carries them into the following weeks as the weather gets colder and the winter settles in. Becky and Charlotte want to go to this week's football game despite the chill that penetrates coats and gloves, and Bayley and Sasha follow along for old times sake. Bayley regrets that decision for many reasons. For one, Sasha decided that her purple gloves weren’t enough of a barrier, taking Bayley’s hand to surge more warmth to her fingers, which wasn’t all bad, but it was a sharp reminder of the things they could and couldn’t have. Secondly, Charlotte and Becky seemed just as cozy from their position on the next row of bleachers right in front of them, they sat with virtually no space in between, Charlotte laughing when Becky would scream from the stands after a bad play, their hands held together just the same. The mirror of it made too much sense, that soulmates would be sitting in the same way as Sasha and Bayley seemed too good to be true. And finally, although Sasha’s left hand stayed busy in holding Bayley’s right, her eyes were focused on something else, or _ someone else.  _

Bayley didn’t have a temper, and she was hard to make angry, but the sudden stream of jealousy and anger that shot through her when she saw where Sasha’s attention had been caught was enough to make her warm under the harsh winds of early December. 

_ Seth Rollins. The quarterback. Of course.  _ Bayley didn’t know much about him other than that Becky had a brief crush on him in middle school, before she knew Charlotte existed. He didn’t seem like a terrible person, nothing close to what movies made jocks out to be like, but that didn’t matter. Someone had Sasha’s immediate attention and it wasn’t Bayley.

She let’s the matter go, doesn’t question the light of Sasha’s eyes as she watches him throw the ball, no matter how much it makes her want to puke. But perhaps that's the wrong thing to do; Bayley knows she needs to communicate, but the need to protect Sasha from color seems like the more noble task. So the words don’t spill out. 

Instead, she’s forced into conversations when Sasha sneaks through her window once more. Bayley is awake this time as she hears the window slide up in it’s frame. Sasha is gifted with the view of Bayley laid out on her bed, idly scrolling through her phone as Paramore plays quietly through the speaker. Bayley’s quiet humming yields at the sight of Sasha standing in her room.

It’s a Saturday, mid-afternoon, the light pours in through the window, Bayley’s bedroom curtains sway with the wind behind Sasha. She stands there, all wrapped up: a leather jacket thrown over Bayley’s gray marching band sweater, light blue jeans that snug closely around Sasha’s thighs and calves, lime green fingerless gloves, Sasha’s charcoal glasses fit over her cold bitten red nose, her blue hair spilling in waves under a dark beanie. The sun light from the window pushes up through the space and she’s glowing. Bayley has to look away to catch her breath.

“Hey” Sasha voices in a firm whisper, the nerves apparent in her voice as she nervously rubs the palms of her hands against her jeans.

“Hi” Bayley answers pushing herself up in her hurry into a sitting position. She feels out of place still in her pajamas, but knows Sasha has never cared about appearances.

Sasha gives her a look, kicking off her combat boots into an isolated corner, a look that means “can we talk?” and there isn't any hesitation in the way Bayley pats the space of the bed beside her, a welcoming gesture for Sasha to sit. 

But the panic flares as soon as she does, that Sasha knows about the color somehow, that she doesn’t want to be part of Bayley’s life anymore. There isn’t time for the worry to overtake her though, because Sasha took her invitation to sit as something else entirely. Sasha throws herself toward Bayley, instead of the space that was made for her, leaving the brunette with little choice, but to catch Sasha before they knocked heads.

Sasha laughs as her weight settles around Bayley’s waist, her arms coming to rest around her shoulders. She pulls Bayley’s face snug to her chest, sighing a breath of relief, staying there until press of each other becomes too much to handle.

Sasha leans back, away from Bayley, but remaining in her lap. She takes off the leather jacket and pulls Bayley’s sweater over her own head. Bayley gulps at the sight, at the proximity. Sasha still remains in her t-shirt, but the stripping of clothing sends a bolt of electricity through her.

But after removing the two layers, Sasha is cold again. She untangles herself from Bayley’s grip finally settling into the actual bed and Bayley follows suit, until their under the covers facing each other on their sides, a small space between them on Bayley’s twin bed, but enough for them to look into each other’s eyes. It feels more real than anything else, when they’re here a weight is lifted, there’s no pretense of expectations. Just Bayley and Sasha.

“I think I want to start trying” Sasha whispers as Bayley pushes hair out of her face, but she doesn’t pull away, instead leaving her hand against her cheek, allowing herself the comfort of stroking her thumb over the soft skin there. And Sasha’s hand comes up to hold onto Bayley’s wrist, a sign that she doesn’t want Bayley to stop.

“What do you mean?” Bayley questions sincerely.

“Like go on dates with people, stop pushing away any chance of being in a relationship”

Bayley’s thumb stops moving at the words, her heart stops, the air in her lungs escapes her for a moment, she feels like choking, crying, running away for good. But she sits there frozen.

“Bay?” Sasha tries to bring her back, squeezes her wrist as she pleads for a reaction.

“W-what happened to not wanting to find your soulmate? Did all that fear just go away?” Bayley begs in a voice that is far from her own. Sasha can feel the betrayal from Bayley’s skin, a hurt that breaks something in her, something she has to mend.

“No! No, I just- we touched. And nothing bad happened”. A pause, a space where Sasha gauges Bayley’s reaction, but the other girl remains still, like a trauma she isn’t prepared to process. “So maybe, like I could try with other people too”

It feels like a question, like Sasha needs Bayley’s approval. And it feels like they should be on other sides of the room, screaming, hashing out everything they’ve ever thought, every time they’ve ever touched, but Sasha is still so close and everything is quiet as Bayley silently implodes.

Sasha wishes she could take it all back, erase the last 5 minutes. She’ll have to live with the loss of never feeling Bayley’s hand on her face, but it’ll be worth it if Bayley doesn’t hate her. But there are no time machines, no taking it back.

“Okay” Bayley finally says. It sounds like a life sentence, a pained acceptance in having no choice. Bayley had decided protecting Sasha was number one priority, but the lines get blurred this time, because Sasha is the one throwing herself into the fire. 

Sasha doesn’t sigh in relief, her heart doesn’t stop beating so erratically. It doesn’t feel like an agreement, like Bayley could ever truly support this, but she doesn’t know any other way.

This is how Sasha copes: never facing anything head on, never reconciling, instead finding new doors to open, new rooms to mess up. So she’ll run away from the desire to fix the gash she created in both of their chests, she won’t think about how easy it would be to kiss Bayley right now, not when she can see the lavender in Bayley’s bed sheets and the yellow on her fingernails.

Sasha begs Charlotte for Seth’s phone number a few days later at lunch. 

“Why do you even have it?” Bayley asks, genuinely curious, she’s never seen the blonde interact with him for more than a few seconds. 

“They’re both “student athletes”’ Becky jokes, earning a sharp kick to the shin from Charlotte under the table, “Ow” but Charlotte is moving to peck her on the cheek before she can continue to complain.

“We have History together, he texts me for the homework sometimes” Charlotte shrugs her explanation.

“Why do you need his number so bad anyway?” Becky interrogates, pointing a fry at Sasha in question, now fully recovered from Charlotte’s love tap.

“I dunno, he’s cute, I wanted to see if he wanted to hang out or something”

Charlotte stops mid chew, her eyes widening. Becky chokes on her chocolate milk, spilling the contents of her mouth back into the carton, raising a finger to Sasha as if to indicate to give her a moment to process. Bayley sits unphased.

“You want to what?” Becky asks like her 12 year old daughter just asked to spend a weekend in a hotel room with her 24 year old boyfriend.

Sasha opens her mouth to explain, but Becky doesn’t give her the time.

“I’m all for you getting out there, but since when have you been so okay with the possibility of ...eck em” she clears her throat lowering her voice to a whisper, “finding your soulmate”

“I’m not” Sasha sighs out, trying to find the right way not to blow her cover, “But you guys are right, if I want to find love I can’t just hang out with you three for the rest of my life-OW” 

“We love you” Charlotte warns Sasha after kicking her in the shin like she had Becky.

“You know what I mean” Sasha grumbles, rubbing against the forming bruise. 

Becky suddenly becomes aware of Bayley’s percieved indifference, she takes another fry to use as a fresh accusatory weapon as she points it back and forth between Sasha and Bayley saying “Wait, you knew about this?”

Bayley shrugs, releasing a breath, “You know Sasha,” she offers like the girl in question isn’t sitting right beside her, “once she decides she wants something, she doesn’t stop until she gets it”

Bayley’s own words make her shiver, a shock in her public display of laying down the sword and giving up.

Charlotte and Becky suddenly feel like their reactions were too heavy in comparison to the surrender Bayley is so willing to grant them. They leave it that, but Charlotte still gives Sasha Seth’s number.

And things move sort of quickly from there. Bayley doesn’t see Seth anymore than she used to, but when Sasha gets a text she knows it's him, she knows it's him when her face lights up at her phone, when she laughs quietly while typing a response.

It’s taxing, pretending that it doesn’t hurt. She notices the way he smiles at Sasha in the hall, how she waves at him from the bleachers at his games, how happy she seems. She tries her hardest to be happy too, when the feeling of her heart being shattered repeatedly isn’t as overwhelming, happy that Sasha is growing even if its in a different direction.

And it’s weird because things don’t change beyond that, because Sasha is still coming in through her window when Bayley hasn’t replied to her texts, she still kicks off her converse and crawls into bed next to her.

It feels so normal. It feels right. But Bayley can still feel the boundary, knows one wrong move and Sasha could be running the other way. It’s delicate. Sasha wants with all of herself to be okay with it, to love Bayley regardless of what the colors mean, but she can’t.

Her heart says to stay, but her brain knows she can’t. She doesn’t want a soulmate even if that means breaking Bayley’s heart.

She’s crying in Bayley’s bed before she can stop it, a wave of reality hitting her cheeks in the dark. Bayley can feel the shift in the room.

There’s only enough light to see the movement of Sasha’s eyes, the wetness that decorates her face, and Bayley reaches to wipe them away, doesn’t ask for an explanation.

But Sasha’s eyes land on Bayley’s lips, and Bayley changes her mind: she wants to know why.

_ Why is Sasha crying? _

_ Why has everything been so crazy? _

_ Why had the world been so cruel to her? _

_ Why couldn’t she just kiss her? _

Bayley moves forward, shifts her weight until their noses brush, their breath mingling in the dark. Sasha’s still crying, Bayley can feel the ragged breaths against her mouth, the tears against her thumb. And for a moment she doesn’t care. Doesn’t care that Sasha made her see color, while Sasha still lives in black and white. Doesn’t care about Seth. Doesn’t care about breaking her own heart.

So she kisses her. It’s soft, yet explosive, a reminder of what color is behind the black of her eyelids. And Sasha feels it too, grabs onto Bayley’s shoulders in an effort to ground herself, stop herself from floating into another dimension. It doesn’t last long, a moment of brushing lips quietly afraid too much pressure will remind them what’s happening.

Sasha knows it’s wrong, even when it feels like an answer to every question she’s ever had, still she grants herself the moment of reprieve, sinks deeper into Bayley’s arms, tries to memorize the feeling, wants to compare it to other lips to see if it would be different, but she can’t imagine a surge of emotions like this with anyone else. 

But she knows she can’t stay forever, so she pushes Bayley back, just enough to make her intentions clear. She slides out of Bayley’s bed, finds her jacket and converse in the dark, and climbs out the window before even getting them on. Bayley can hear Sasha running, the heavy footfalls of feet against her driveway.

But she can’t imagine chasing her.

Bayley remains in bed motionless, caught between the feeling of love on her lips, and the feeling of absolute despair in her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay i have a lot of feelings:
> 
> HIAC opinions if you care about that: on one hand if Sasha and/or Bayley have to lose, its always not as hard when its to Becky and/or Charlotte because obviously the friendship is deeper than a belt they have no say in who has it, but at the same time it sort of feels like a kick in the stomach to hve sasha come back just to repeatedly lose, to have bayley only ever beat charlotte in a messed up way, just to give it to charlotte for a 10th time. they both just looked so distraught and it HURTS
> 
> DRAFT opinions if you care about that: i mean the dream would be that theyre all on the same brand but thats very unrealistic, Now that smackdown is on fox its technically the a show and raw is the b show: which is new. so theyre def gonna wanna please fox with some of there best talent, but they also have to keep raw as an almost equal thing, because the usa network has been a partner for a long time and they dont want to screw that relationship up. so obviuosly theyll be split. and theres pros and cons for any combo. if Sasha and Bayley are together thats good cuz baysha content, but theyll be chasing after the same belt, and idk how well wwe would frame a feud between them at this point. if theyre separated then they wont be together but they definitely wont be fighting so idk. and i kinda dont want becky vs sasha and bayley vs charlotte to be over either??? there still seems like there could be more, that there could be revenge and growth, so ig well have to wait and see
> 
> CHAPTER: again, im soooooo sorry for the angst. how do yall feel about sasha and seth (as characters, cuz real world sasha and seth ARE FUCKING FRIENDs and their respective fandoms both need to chill tf out)? how do yall feel about sasha? do u hate her yet? Dont worry...more angst to come...okay maybe like a few more chapters of sadness...sorry again, love yall


	10. the anguish of the unknown

Sasha can’t run forever, even she knows that. So the next time they see each other is first period Math the next morning. 

Sasha approaches her usual seat slowly, trying to gauge whether or not Becky and Charlotte have learned of this new development:  _ Sasha and Bayley kissed. _

_ The memory comes in harsh flashes of warmth that are hard to shake away. The butterflies, the overwhelming cloak of safety, the weightless persistence of desire, the humbling intensity.  _

But Charlotte sits idly examining her fingernails, waiting for class to start as Becky begs Bayley to give her last night’s homework, nothing out of the ordinary. And Bayley doesn’t look at her as she takes her seat; she busies herself instead with explaining the problems from their homework even though Becky isn’t listening, too focused on copying the problem perfectly. 

Pre- calculus isn’t a discussion based class obviously so Sasha being quiet throughout the period doesn’t stand out to anyone, but there isn’t any of the usual quiet camaraderie between the group, a dense wall separating the air between Sasha and Bayley.

But there isn’t much time to dwell, not until it’s lunch time and Sasha is nowhere to be found. Charlotte takes charge in texting into the group chat asking Sasha if she’s okay, but its 15 minutes into the period and the blue-haired girl has yet to reply. Bayley sits silently, seemingly unalarmed by Sasha’s absence, the tired sense of giving up is apparent in her eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” Becky covers one of Bayley’s hands on the table with her own, a break from the conversation of Sasha’s possible whereabouts. 

Bayley knows they deserve the truth. They’re her best friends. But something can’t bring her to be honest, not when there’s so many unanswered questions, not when Sasha is pretending none of them exist. She doesn’t want to paint herself as the victim, when she’s been lying about color to everyone, when Sasha is somewhere feeling wronged and alone. 

So she settles for “Yeah” in a voice that betrays her. The cracked wateriness is apparent in the thick sludge of the word, but she’d cried herself to sleep last night, the wet warmth leaving a feeling of sickness and a vocal pattern of insecurity.

She can’t stand the way Becky and Charlotte look at her after that: like she’s broken, like she’s been broken this whole time and they’ve just now realized it. So she takes a page out of Sasha’s book and removes herself from the confrontation. She gets up mumbling something about going to the bathroom before grabbing her book bag and leaving the cafeteria in a storm of unease.

She isn’t looking for Sasha so the flash of sapphire hair as she turns up the stairwell stops her in her tracks. Sasha sits halfway up the staircase, her attention focused down as she feverishly writes in her journal. Bayley doesn’t even want to think about what she could possibly be writing. The anguish of the unknown. And it finally hits her. 

She doesn’t get it: why has Sasha been so quick to run? She’d felt the way Sasha pushed into her when they kissed, the way she’d lost her breath, the way she seemed to want to never let go before abruptly coming to her senses and pulling away.

The possibilities flow through her brain in the moment she stands in front of Sasha.

  * __Sasha has no romantic feelings for Bayley. Which isn’t ideal but Bayley could convince herself for at least sometime that friends was better than enemies.__
  * _The lack of color was the driving factor, that Sasha knew that Bayley was waiting for her soulmate, and wanted to save them the heartache, because she already knew she couldn’t be that for Bayley._

Bayley isn’t sure which one is worse.

“Hey” Bayley whispers hoping her mere presence isn’t enough to make Sasha run. 

Sasha’s head snaps up abruptly at the sound, slamming shut her journal in the same instance, as if to save the secrets the pages hold from prying eyes. “How’d you find me? Who told you I was here?” come the harsh words unprompted.

Bayley stands dumbfounded at the sharpness, she takes a moment to process it, “N-no one” she starts, suddenly gaining her strength in “I wasn’t looking!”

The answer almost makes Sasha deflate. She wanted to be alone, but the idea that Bayley doesn’t care enough to seek her out still stung somehow. 

“Did you need something?” are the next words that come out of Sasha’s mouth, but they don’t carry the same sting she wishes they had. Instead they sound broken as she packs her journal back into her bag, and tears begin to fill her eyes.

“Sasha” Bayley states wistfully, a longing, a question, a hope. She steps closer reaching out, but it only prompts Sasha to move faster, as she zips her bag, stands up, and throws the strap over her shoulder ready to bolt at any moment.

They stand face to face, Sasha a step higher than Bayley making them almost eye level. Bayley looks between tired brown eyes, the pain evident in furrowed eyebrows, and dark circles. She had tried so hard to keep her own feelings at bay, sacrifice her own happiness for Sasha, but now she can see so clearly that despite all her efforts Sasha has faced more pain that she could have ever imagined, and that’s something she could never forgive herself for. She knows now that it has to stop, she’s got nothing else to lose if Sasha walks away. _ Now or never _ .

“Why’d you run?” Bayley asks point blank, because there’s no other way to ask, her voice doesn’t betray her this time, the syllables coming out in bold succession.

There isn’t a verbal answer, just Sasha’s tears finally beginning to fall as she breaks eye contact and finds a place on the floor for her focus. There’s a visible rising panic in Sasha as her breathing becomes labored and tears fall freely.

“Sash,” Bayley reaches out, wiping her tears away and bringing their foreheads together. A place where Sasha can focus on the steadiness of Bayley’s breathing enough to mirror it, bask in the feel of Bayley’s hand in her hair, and bring her back down from her panic, “It’s okay”. It’s a swell of comfort, a closed off world that reminds her too much of everything wrong with it, the contrast is too great. 

Buy the words trigger something in her suddenly as Bayley asks again in a whisper, “Why’d you run?”

And Sasha can’t remain in the bubble of broken promises anymore. She pushes back, scrambling back to create separation, the labored breathing returns, a fire in her eyes that warns of imminent danger.

“Why’d I run?” she starts like the question is the single dumbest thing she’s ever heard, a scoff “Because you made me see color, okay?” the words come out like an instigation to a physical fight, not a declaration of love. And Bayley is so stunned she can’t speak. And even if she could, it wouldn’t matter, because Sasha’s tirade is far from over.

“You had to go and touch me and make me see color, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to believe it, because I didn’t want you thinking we were soulmates, or that we could ever be together, I didn’t want to lose you, but you had to go fuck all that up and kiss me, and now look at us,” Sasha screams gesturing wildly, uncaring of anyone hearing, as Bayley looks like a ghost and Sasha turns red, her face soaked in hot tears, and a mix of anger and despair, “We fucked it all up more than it already was” she stops like it’s the end: the end of this conversation, the end of Sasha and Bayley.

“Sash” Bayley tries to plead as Sasha remains quiet for the moment, she can’t make herself say anything else, she’s too stunned to know how to fix this.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this” are the last words Sasha offers her, before she does what Sasha does best. She walks away: from possible solutions, from the chance of love, from her best friend, because the pain is just too much to bare. 

Bayley fills with instant regret, regret for the last months of their friendship where she let things go too far, with the extra contact, letting Sasha sleep in her bed, never asserting boundaries. She wishes she’d been more careful, that Sasha had never run into her, never touched her. She wishes she’d told Sasha then, or even now that she saw color too, but she knows even that wouldn’t change anything, probably just would’ve made her run faster.

She stares at the empty space Sasha had just filled, the vacancy a parallel to the fresh hole in her heart.

Bayley falls to her knees when her brain starts to truly process what just happened. She curls into herself on the staircase, cover her stained cheeks from the outside world as her brain is riddled with all the ways she royally fucked up. She stays there until the bell rings, and as much as she’d love to never move again, the last thing she wants is for someone to find her like this.

Her next move comes without thought as she drags herself outside and walks mindlessly across the football field until she’s sat on the bleachers. The cold air picks at her skin as she starts to shiver, but the survival mechanic isn’t dwelled on as goosebumps grow and fingertips turn numb. 

She knows its asking a lot for Charlotte to skip class, but she can’t sit alone with the emptiness of her brain any longer. She texts Charlotte individually:

_ Can u meet me on the bleachers? bring becky too _

_ kind of an emergency _

She watches as the text is read and the bubble pops up to indicate Charlotte’s typing.

_ B there in 5 _

The answer settles something in Bayley’s core, that she hasn’t ruined everything in her life yet, that Charlotte and Becky would still be there at a moment’s notice in a crisis, its further reason that Bayley can’t keep this in hiding any longer.

The text message had been comforting, but watching her friends approach was not. Something in the way that this was suddenly real, that Sasha running was one thing, but facing it outloud was different somehow. Bayley felt like all of this was her fault, the lying, the distanced instances of friendship, this new phase of no Sasha in the picture, and taking the blame for it was a new burden that she was about to carry.

“Hey, you okay?” Becky asks for the second time today as she takes a seat next to Bayley, and Charlotte sits on the brunette’s other side, and this time Bayley is honest.

She shakes her head no, a wet cry coming out against her will, she turns to bury her face into Charlotte’s shoulder, Becky holding her in place hugging her from behind. 

Charlotte soothes her quietly, her hand stroking through Bayley’s hair, “where’s your coat? It’s cold out here” she asks, trying to stray Bayley’s mind from the pain, Becky’s hands instantly move to rub at the exposed skin of Bayley’s arms in an effort to keep her warm. 

“What happened, babe?” Charlotte asks when the tears become a little lighter and Bayley removes her face from the security of Charlotte’s collarbone.

Bayley takes a deep breath, shiffles quietly trying to pull herself together, before starting her explanation.

“I haven’t been completely honest with either of you,” she starts, the air in her lungs suddenly gone just as quick as Sasha, “Sasha and I are soulmates” she finally reveals the thump of her heart reaching her ears. She expects them to run too, if only for the cruel fulfillment of the universe. She expects anger for her deceit.

She doesn’t expect the way that the two share a knowing look before Becky pipes up with a well intended chuckle, “We kinda figured” 

“We were just waiting for one of you to tell us” Charlotte finishes for her easily.

Bayley kind of feels dumb now, that they were that easy to read through, that Charlotte and Becky could tell when Bayley wasn’t completely sure Sasha saw color. It would be funny if everything wasn’t falling apart.

“I didn’t know until just now” Bayley tries to clarify, but it only leaves her friends confused.

“I mean I knew I got color when we touched, but I convinced myself that she didn’t. So I tried to keep it a secret so Sasha wouldn’t have to deal with it, but I was stupid. I’ve been in love with her long before we ever touched, and holding it in got to be too much.” Bayley explains further, stopping to catch her breath, but also to make sure Becky and Charlotte were following.

“Last night, I kissed her and she ran away.” her voice breaks at the recollection, but she pushes on, “when I left you guys at lunch, I found her and confronted her about it. She said she saw color too, and that meant that we couldn’t be together, she still doesn’t want a soulmate, so she ran”

“Oh, Bayley” Charlotte voices, the pity and sympathy oozing out of her. It’s enough to get Bayley worked up again, start the water works all over again.

“I just feel so stupid” Bayley starts again in between harsh breaths and pleading whimpers, “I really thought I could change her, make her believe that it was okay”

Becky, and even Charlotte are lost for words. All the while they’d believed Sasha and Bayley to be soulmates, neither of them thought it would end this way, they too believed that their bond would be enough for Sasha to believe in soulmates. But here they were trying their best to hold the broken pieces of Bayley together while Sasha was nowhere to be found. 

And the weight only grows from there because Sasha asks to move her seat in pre-calculus, removes herself from the group chat, doesn’t show up in any of their usual hangout spots: no butterfly cafe, never their shared lunch period or the park.

The most contact Bayley gets is short whisks of blue hair in the hallway, the sting of almost, Seth Rollins seemingly never too far away. Him and Roman sort of morph into her body guards. Bayley, or even Charlotte and Becky. will look to Sasha longingly as if to say “come home” only to be met with the death glare from one of her “new-found friends”.

Radio silence continues on like this for about a month. Bayley spends her nights laid out in bed feeling sorry for herself, scrolling through her camera roll, looking at pictures of the four of them wondering when things had started to fall apart. She doesn’t change her lock screen photo from a selfie Sasha had taken of them cuddled up in her bed. She’ll text and call on the nights she’s particularly desperate, but answers never come.

_ Sasha _

_ Cmon pls answer me _

_ I love you _

_ Were soulmates we can figure this out _

_ I just want us to be okay _

_ We dont have to do anything you dont want _

_ Can we pls be friends again? _

_ please _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i havent updated in so long but its only been 10 days...
> 
> anyway were still slapping on the angst thicc as you can tell
> 
> were def like 3/4 into the fic so itll be better soonish (have i ever given yall a reason to trust me????)
> 
> but like i hope you like the friendship dynamics and the like necessary communcation that occured even if sasha and bayley didnt really resolve anything theyre one step closer so...


	11. and its enough

February comes in like a thrilling reminder that cold remains amongst them, because Sasha had not yet given up an inch of the land she had taken in the war she’d sprung on all of them. It was tormenting: the longing looks of desperation, the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. Burying herself under a mountain of blankets each night doesn’t stop Bayley from feeling cold, from missing the mysterious visits from Sasha through her window or the way she held her close. 

Valentine’s Day grants Bayley the need to swallow down her shame a little harder, as she watches couples hold hands, gift chocolates and roses, kiss with just enough delicate desire to push her into looking away. All before she can even make it to her first class.

Which stands to serve her no better, because she gets there pretty early, earlier than all of her classmates, but one.  _ Sasha. _

They make brief eye contact for only a moment from Sasha’s seat in the back of the room, it feels like a burn, pushes them to not to test the chances of looking into each other’s eyes again. But more so it presses into Bayley’s brain with finality, like the walls that had previously held in all her unspoken emotions had suddenly lost their strength and caved in in one fell swoop. She takes her seat in one motion, taking out her notebook and a pen, her face physically close to the paper as she writes feverishly. 

The sound of scribbling only lasts for a minute or two, but it's long enough for the classroom to start filling. Sasha watches Bayley in this seemingly manic state as she focuses on creasing the paper over the perforated line of her loose leaf before ripping it free from her notebook, carefully folding the page in half twice before leaving her seat.

At this point, Charlotte and Becky have taken their seats around Bayley, looking at her in question, but not voicing their curiosity. Bayley leaves the room with paper in hand with only a minute before the bell rings. Sasha doesn’t know where Bayley is going, but she waits for her return just the same. 

When she does make it back to class just as the bell rings, the paper she’d been so focused on is gone.

Sasha tries not to focus too much on what it could have been, or the way Bayley still looks so tense, the way Charlotte puts her hand over Bayley’s because she can feel the change in energy. But her other options of distraction are their teacher’s monotone voice, the girl beside her gabbing on about the “beautiful flowers” her soulmate bought her for Valentine’s Day, or the way Roman looks at Seth like a lost puppy while Seth pays all his attention to writing his notes,  _ nerd. _

It can feel like a noble cause at times, like she’s taking her pain and heartbreak and putting it aside, for the greater good of letting Bayley find someone who she deserves, who isn’t so damaged. Being able to walk away and stick to the belief she’s carried her entire life: that color would not bring her love no matter the circumstances. But at times like this, it feels like she’s drowning in cerulean seas and cobalt craters, like Bayley is the sun and the heat is so far away that she’s forgotten what it means to be warm, like there could never be a solution, an answer that feels far more like a guess than an actual distinction.

And she tries to remind herself that she’s not alone. She’s found new companionship in Seth and Roman, and it’s better than she’d thought it would be, but it’s not the same. Seth drives her home sometimes, but she doesn’t steal the aux like she does with Becky, doesn’t make him suffer through her K-pop, sits idly as he hums along to intense heavy metal, she watches their football games, but Bayley isn’t there to lean up against, to keep her warm, Roman tries to console her in her times of need and she truly appreciates it, she does, but he’s not Charlotte, his words never coming out exactly the right way. She’ll admit she likes ordering Chinese food and playing Uncharted in Seth’s basement, but she misses the Butterfly Cafe and the way she’d fight Bayley for who gets to be Toad when they’d play Mario Kart. 

It’s the little things really: Becky’s focused face with her tongue poked out as she copies Bayley’s math homework for the millionth time, the way Charlotte would smile at her softly after rolling her eyes at the pun war occuring between Becky and Bayley, the look in Becky’s eyes when she just wants Charlotte to hold her, the smile Bayley does when she’s surrounded by her best friends and nothing else matters, the way they’d protect her from unwanted attention in the gentlest of ways, the way she knew she could bare her soul without being judged.

It was gone and it was her fault. The guilt stung more everyday like an oozing green of abundant mucus. And as much as she’d felt guilty, her stubborn nature held her back from apology. All she knew how to do was be stagnant.

Sasha goes to her locker after class, keeping her eyes down as she exits the classroom. Roman and Seth turn to head to their next classes on the other side of the building, with the usual agreement that they’d see her at lunch.

The bustle of the hallway seems to seize when she opens her locker and a piece of paper slides out,  _ folded twice,  _ like the one Bayley had taken with her when she’d left their Math class earlier.

Her heart skips a beat like she’d just been asked to the middle school dance, or like a shark had just made itself known in surrounding waters. She takes a deep breath before unfolding it and reading over the words: 

_ I love you _

_ and I don't know what to do _

_ I just know that this color _

_ Is too much for you _

_ I try to sleep at night  _

_ hoping you’re okay _

_ But the sting of sapphire _

_ Only prompts more decay _

_ Please let me love you _

_ the love will never end _

_ Please let me love you _

_ At least as a friend _

_ Happy Valentine's day _

_ -B _

Sasha feels like falling, like the human instinct of balance had suddenly left her and that her knees would give out, her heart ceases, but she stays on her feet with the note tightly held in her grasp, frozen as her mind fulfills several avenues of thought.

The fact alone, that Bayley had communicated in a mode Sasha would appreciate: in poetry, when Bayley had never regarded herself as good with words. But even more, that Bayley cared about Sasha enough to break both their hearts for the sake of being friends. Sasha didn’t know if she could handle that. It was one thing to keep Bayley at a safe distance of  _ strangers,  _ but having her in reach would be difficult. To exercise self-control when Bayley was so close would be an almost impossible behavior to execute. 

But it was getting harder every day, to see her and not touch her, to think but never speak.

The bell breaks her out of her frozen panic, her hand grasping tighter onto the paper, crinkling the corner as the other slammed into the locker adjacent to hers at the realization that she’d let herself get lost enough to be late to class. 

The idea follows her all day, that they could be friends again, that perhaps this wasn’t the end of the four of them. She’d have to truly apologize this time, and she’d be happy to do it if it meant Bayley would stop looking so goddamn sad. 

She blows off Seth’s offer to stay for their football practice and doing homework at Roman’s after. She finds herself walking aimlessly instead, buried into her winter coat and purple scarf. It reminds her of when her hair had been purple and she didn’t feel so fucked up, when Bayley was her biggest blessing and not the hardest hurdle to get over. She can feel Bayley’s poem burning a hole in her pocket as her gloved fingers trace the edge of the paper. She thinks about saving it, taping it into the front of her journal to read and re-read in times of desperation, regardless of what she decides. 

She walks. And she thinks about the fear, her desire for happiness, but how scary it is to actually look for it. She’s afraid the universe is right, and she’s been wrong all along. And being wrong is one of the hardest things for Sasha. Because she’s always lived in a bubble of selfish doubt, where the ill of the world had always been known to her and she strayed from ever letting in sunshine. She’d only ever been wrong 3 times, in the form of Becky, and then Bayley and Charlotte. But this time was different. This time was turning everything she knew and pushing it off the nearest cliff in favor of starting from scratch. 

She’s walking until it’s dark, her book bag weighing down on her back, her nose aching from cold, her stomach starting to growl. And her subconscious pulls her in an ingrained direction before she finds herself almost surprisingly in front of Butterfly Cafe.

The neon sign calls out to her, a welcoming baby blue that she’d never really paid any mind to until now, the red flash of  _ open _ hitting her repeatedly as the color strikes against the lenses of her glasses. It calls to her like a baby who needs to be put down for their nap, and she answers wearily, pushing against the door, listening to the bell chime as the door opens against her strength. The cashier smiles at her like he  _ knows.  _ Like he knows her face, but he hasn’t seen it in a while, like he knows exactly what she’s thrown away. It causes a bout of turmoil that has her feeling not so hungry anymore. Still she orders a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will counteract the growing ache of her skull. If he notices Sasha’s new lack of worry in their skin brushing when he hands her back her change, he doesn’t mention it. 

She sits silently for a while, the heat of her mug warming her hands. The cafe is pretty empty: a couple in the far corner talking quietly, an older man reading the newspaper a few tables away, a worker sweeping behind the counter. It’s quiet.

Sasha settles into her seat, taking out some homework to do, trying to rid her mind as best she can of the current emotional devastation. And it works for a while, drowning herself in her History homework and the way life feels like war, like a reel of all the things that go wrong printed in times new roman on the inside of her skull, an endless scroll of every move she’s ever made and the consequences the world will suffer for it. But the words in front of her feel like a far off fantasy, a description of a time she’ll never know the pain of. It makes her feel small, like the world is an ever-growing cave of collapsed stars and she is but a speck of dust that flies freely in an arc of unsatisfying turmoil that lands her in circumstances that don’t change the way the earth turns, don’t stop the motion of tides, don’t plant  _ difference  _ into the soil and wait for the  _ change  _ to grow. 

But her little world of wondered spectacle isn’t a strong enough bubble. The daydream is broken by the sound of the door dinging as new customers enter. Although taken out of her wistful thoughts, she doesn’t lift her head to see who’s entered, not until she hears a  _ laugh. _

A laugh she had thought she’d known so well, that somehow sounded like it was missing something now: perhaps a layer of sincerity, a touch of truth. It was Bayley, letting out a chuckle that still filled the room despite her muted state(probably in reaction to a pun made by Becky) and it stopped Sasha in her tracks. 

She tucks her head further into her History textbook sinking down a few inches into her seat hoping that they just ignore her, that Becky, Bayley, and Charlotte collectively make the decision to let it go. To let everything they’ve been through cease to exist for the time being, to pretend that they all didn’t sit in this very cafe the first day they’d all met, to pretend that Sasha running is something new and that they don’t know how to handle it. 

But silently wishing for the universe to keep waves at bay never tended to work for Sasha. 

She hears whispering as they settle into a table on the other side of the room, but she keeps her head down, pretends she can’t pick out her name in the mix of concealed speaking. She almost hopes they’re talking shit, because it’s a better option than the possibility that they’re formulating a plan to approach her. 

“Fine, I got it” She hears Bayley offer after a harsh push of something from Charlotte, followed by the sound of a chair pushes out from under a table.

Sasha closes her eyes and gulps. She doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want confrontation. Not when everything is still so wrong, and running is so much easier. Not when Bayley had just asked her to be  _ friends  _ again, and she hadn’t had any time to think it through. Not when she knew she’d do whatever Bayley asked. 

Bayley clears her throat when she’s standing in front of Sasha’s table, waiting for the shorter girl to look up and notice her presence. Sasha opens her eyes slowly as if to prepare for the sight of something other-worldly, looks up finally to meet Bayley’s eyes. Neither soulmate says anything for the moment. Just a space in time where Bayley is re-learning the delicate charcoal of Sasha’s eyes, and Sasha is waiting for Bayley to make some formal plea about the universe and its power, waiting to be chastised, cast aside, or begged to come back to home base, but the words don’t come.

Instead, Bayley stands looking awed like she isn’t sure what to say, how to bridge the gap. There’s pain and confusion in her face, until her eyes light up and a sigh escapes her lips. It isn’t a plan, but the most genuine olive branch she can bring herself to offer.

“Chocolate milkshake?” Bayley asks Sasha, repeating the first words she’d ever said to her, like it was the first day they met, like they’re 14 and still too busy trying to learn how to walk without stumbling to worry about soulmates, like Bayley is just trying to get to know her better, to tell her that it’s safe to fly close to home.

And Sasha tries not to show the relief on her face: in the choice that Bayley has always presented her with, never force, never a plea. Always an understanding that they are individuals, never tethered together by anything other than a want to keep coming back. But it’s the pain in Bayley’s eyes, as her question sits stale in the air, that breaks what’s left of Sasha’s resolve.

Tears coat her eyes, but don’t fall as she tries to find her voice.

“Chocolate’s gross” Sasha does her part in repeating her answer from their first conversation; a day that feels lifetimes ago. But the syllables are not coated in malice, instead infected with thick syrup, enough to tell Bayley how hard this is.

“Vanilla, it is” Bayley concludes the familiar exchange with an air of finality; the words hitting the air like the end of a practiced lecture.

But they both know that it’s just that; a show put on to stand in for greetings, for talking things out without easing in. So Bayley doesn’t move to buy Sasha a Vanilla Milkshake, and Sasha isn’t running.

“Do you wanna come sit with us?” Bayley asks like the precipice of the universe is determined by Sasha’s answer, and Sasha can feel the weight shifting back, the energy of the universe pushing her into Bayley’s arms.

And she’s just so tired of fighting. So tired of being alone and away from the people she loves. Exhausted by the dramatics of running and running and never getting closure for the wound she’s opened and re-opened time and again. So, she says yes. She packs up her books, picks up her coffee cup and follows Bayley back to her table.

She expects scowls and demands for apologies, but she doesn’t give Becky and Charlotte enough credit.

Charlotte looks proud, like a mother watching her daughter walk across the stage to receive their diploma, like she’s never been happier to be a group of four again. And Becky. Becky looks like she might cry. And Sasha has  _ never  _ seen Becky cry.

They don’t address it for a moment, a static in letting Sasha settle into her seat, gain her bearings before they jump on her, but surprising the responsibility to make things right is picked up without bargaining.

“I’m so sorry” Sasha voices softly from behind her hands; they cover the entirety of her face as sobs silently into her open palms.

Charlotte comes to kneel next to her, her hand on Sasha’s shoulder as she whispers “it’s okay” until Sasha settles down. She stays at her side as her hands come away from her face to reveal the red blotchi-ness her tears left behind, her hand wrapping around Sasha’s bicep to keep her steady.

“I shouldn’t have pushed all of you away, and I shouldn’t have run, and I love you guys so much, and i’m so so sorry, I was just so overwhelmed and I-I-” Sasha tries to explain in between broken cries.

The three share a calculated look as Sasha continues to sob into the table, a look of understanding, of being the bigger person. They’d never talked about this: what to do in the event that Sasha came crawling back. But there was an instant conversation of truth. Forgiveness was never about getting the upper hand, or saying “I told you so”, it was about the validation that no one is alone. And maybe Sasha’s actions haven’t always been the easiest to understand, but empathy has always followed. So Bayley, Becky, and Charlotte will extend the hand of humanity over and over again until Sasha finds a home there.

Becky shushes her, taking Sasha’s hand that lay on the table between her own, squeezing just enough to ground her back to earth, “It’s okay, we love you” Becky promises holding Sasha’s eye contact, hoping the message is heard loud and clear.

Bayley doesn’t touch her, and the missing feeling is enough to make her regret every moment she’s missed with her since she started this whole avoidance tactic. She looks to Bayley because she’s not saying anything, just watching Charlotte and Becky’s attempts at comforting her. 

Sasha doesn’t miss the few silent tears that roll down Bayley’s flushed cheeks, or the way she seems to fumbling with her fingers. She keeps her face turned to Bayley as if to ask for her opinion, her personal confirmation that it’s okay, that  _ they’re  _ okay. 

“We love you, Sash” Bayley finally offers in a concrete whisper. It’s everything Sasha needs, because she knows what Bayley means. The assertion that the friendship needs to heal before anything further is on the table.  _ We love you _ as a four person unit, not to be mistaken with Bayley giving her anything she might not want: like love, or happiness.

And its enough.

Enough for Sasha to chuckle for just a second despite the presence of her tears, which makes Bayley smile too. And then it’s just the four of them, sitting there like dramatic saps, never more sure of the family they’ve built in each other.

And as scary as that security can be, for the first time Sasha doesn’t want to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one felt real deep..like the general idea of this chapter has been sitting in my head since before i posted the last chapter, but it took a lot out of me to actually sit down and write it, and I needed like another whole day to read it over,,,it just blossomed into something 10 times more than i had initially imagined and im kinda proud of that
> 
> thx for still fucking with me even when i be taking you on emotional roller coaster rides
> 
> we ending on a good note, next few chapters will be a little more hopeful and then well be getting towards the END 
> 
> (Still more angst in store (less than usual but still))


	12. a confession of validation

Things settle into a new normal, where Sasha tries not to question the intricacies of the way Bayley always seems so delicately woven into her life without much effort. It's not awkward between them: the four of them, or even just Bayley and Sasha, which is quite startling at first, something about “fate”, but Sasha tries hard to push down the parts of her that want to believe in any ulterior possibilities.

Bayley had seen it coming, welcomed the new ease in her breathing, because she had to admit that friendship with Sasha is better than nothing. As much as Sasha could be a burden: she was her soulmate. Her best friend. No one knew her better, understood the leaps and bounds on trying to make the world better, and what it meant to her. What she hadn’t expected was the addition of Seth and Roman to their “group”.

It had started with the two boys joining them at their lunch table and slowly formed into hanging outside of school. Bayley wasn’t exactly fond of it. Sasha’s  _ boyfriend  _ and his friend hanging around them, especially after they’d both been giving Bayley, Charlotte, and Becky dirty looks in the hallway for over a month. 

“Sorry, we were just being protective of Sasha, we didn’t know the whole story” Roman will say when Becky can’t stop herself from mentioning it the first day they join them for lunch. And Bayley wants to believe him, can read the good intentions in the way he gazes at Sasha like a little sister, but she’s not sure Roman knows what he’s talking about, not sure if he and Seth really know what’s going on, or how much Sasha told them.

Because it would seem pretty shitty to date someone else’s soulmate right in front of them, even for Seth.

So as calm as the new dynamic can seem, there’s definitely an undercurrent of resentment on Bayley’s end. Charlotte and Becky can’t exactly say the same. Charlotte’s motherly qualities gel well with Roman’s “big bro” complex, plus they’re probably the most athletic students at McMahon High. Becky and Seth bond over coffee flavors and breakfast foods, and have a similar childish sense of humor. Roman can’t get over how cute of a couple Charlotte and Becky make and makes said opinion known regularly. And Sasha smiles so earnestly at the way her two friend groups merge so seamlessly. Bayley sits back and listens, and Sasha just seems happy that they aren’t fighting. There aren’t deep talks anymore, or Sasha climbing through Bayley’s window at night, but it’s enough that Sasha is looking at her without those sad eyes, without making her feel like she might explode. It works better than Bayley would ever admit. And it’s not really that she truly believes Seth and Roman are bad people, it's just that there’s a conflict of interest. A situation where they keep her from fixing things with Sasha.

But Bayley knows she can’t blame them. She can’t use her jealousy as an excuse when her own fears are keeping her from destiny. And even still she isn’t sure how much more back and forth either of them could withstand, or if she even wants to keep trying for someone who clearly just wants to be friends.

It’s easier to throw her anger into hating Seth than to confront her own choices, but Seth’s care becomes hard to ignore when she gets a text early on a Sunday morning. Bayley awakes to the sound of her phone dinging several times from several messages coming in one after another.

The cold winter air seeps through the walls and attacks her toes as they push out from under her blanket in an effort to reach her phone from her nightstand.

It’s 8:30, long before Bayley had planned to wake up on a Sunday, but the messages call on her curiosity when she sees they’ve come from an unknown number. 

** _hey its Seth_ **

** _got ur number from Sashs phone_ **

** _Ik her passcode_ **

** _...dont tell her_ **

** _Anywaaaayss_ **

** _Sashas like real sick_ **

** _And her parents arent home_ **

** _Do u think u could come over cux she looks pretty fucked up_ **

** _I mean_ **

** _Still pretty duh_ **

** _But also fucked up_ **

Bayley rubs her eyes and traces the words over for a second time, hoping she’s still dreaming. There’s too many things circling in her head to start to question these messages because: a) Seth actually cares about Sasha (even if its kind of creepy that he knows the code to get into Sasha’s phone), b)he thought for some reason that it was in their best interest to contact Bayley to help, c) why was he at Sasha’s house at this hour without her parents being home in the first place, and d) he’s still shitty enough to comment on Sasha’s appearance to Bayley knowing full well that he is the separating factor between soulmates.

The whole thing is beyond confusing, but the point that hits her the hardest is that Sasha needs her. So she gets out bed doing her best to forget about all the extra facets of the situation.

Fifteen minutes later, she’s at Sasha’s door, her hands stuffed in her pockets, trying to will the cold away from her as she waits for someone to answer the door. Seth’s skateboard sits propped up against the house next to the door, prompting Bayley to remove her hands from her pockets, placing the board fully on the ground, knowing Mrs. Banks would be annoyed at any scuff marks left on the brick.

The door swings open a moment later to reveal Seth in a backwards hat, his hair tied back, and oddly enough one of Bayley’s sweaters, one she’d  _ lost  _ (Sasha stole it) ages ago. It’s a Paramore hoodie, the design faded and falling apart, but Bayley recognizes it right away, pushes away the desire to deck him right there when he starts to speak.

“Bayley!” he says her name gleefully like a surprise reunion with his favorite person, “so happy you came, Sasha’s upstairs and she’s kind of mad that I asked you to come, so don’t be too pushy will ya?” he finishes keeping the chipper tone of voice all the way through.

Bayley furrows her brow. Sasha didn’t want to see her? That’s new. 

Seth seems to see the confusion, but Bayley speaks before he can comment on it.

“Why were you even here?” Bayley asks trying to mask the bite of her words.

“Oh, we usually hang out Sunday mornings, just talk and stuff” Seth answers.

There’s a moment of contemplation then where Bayley doesn’t know whether to be grateful that they “just talk” or sad that Sasha has found a new person to confide in. 

“She didn’t want to bother you, but I figured you’d know how to take care of her better than I do” Seth continues, admitting his lack of ability, but Bayley isn’t sure if he’s talking about Bayley’s empathy or the fact that she’s Sasha’s soulmate. She doesn’t ask.

There’s a moment of silence after as they both think about his words, before Bayley nods at him, waiting for him to move out of the door frame, so she can come inside and out of the cold. 

“Sooo,” she voices after a few more moments of quiet and nothing else, “You gonna let me in or?”

“Oh, Yeah!, of course” He lets out like he’s suddenly just remembered where they are.

Seth looks out of place is Sasha’s house, a sight Bayley had never seen before, his feet not seeming to know the staircase well, fumbling with the light in the hallway to Sasha’s room. It’s a reassurance to Bayley’s jealousy that she’s comfortable behind these walls even in times like this. 

“Hey” Sasha grumbles from her position laid out on her stomach covered in a mountain of blankets, her voice clearly deepened by congestion and phlegm. She looks positively uncomfortable: her eyes puffy, her nose red, her cheeks flushed, her hair knotted but laid out around her. 

“You don’t look so good” Bayley voices quietly.

“Sorry for bothering you, Seth wouldn’t listen to me” Sasha offers before Bayley can even complain, turning herself on to her back, but still remaining under her covers.

“No, it’s more than okay, let’s see if we can make you feel any better” Bayley offers trying to steer away from how uncomfortable Sasha seems in asking Bayley for help.

“No!” Sasha yelps, “Leave me here to die!” she demands pulling a blanket over her face.

“C’mon, Sash. You probably just have a cold” Seth remarks, and Bayley has to agree; they’ve both known Sasha to be over-dramatic. 

Seth moves over toward the foot of Sasha’s bed, moving to pull the covers from her feet so that Sasha’s head would pop back out, but Sasha holds strong, pulling back against his strength.

“Stop, I’m cold!” Sasha whines followed by a giggle, and even Bayley has to admit that it’s cute, laughs along with them. Even though it’s Seth making Sasha laugh.

“Cold? Sasha, you have like 12 blankets, how are you possibly cold?” Bayley comments in between laughs.

“I’m sick” Sasha pouts.

“Then let us help you” Seth tries again. But Sasha only grunts in her lack of defeat.

“You see what i’ve been dealing with?” Seth turns to Bayley now like he’s asking for sympathy, like a single father struggling to get his kids up in time for school.

Bayley laughs feeling thoroughly involved in the camaraderie, where she’d thought she would feel like an outsider, excluded from the “love den” of Sasha’s room. 

Bayley moves toward the side of Sasha’s bed, taking one of Sasha’s hands and pulling her up into a seated position, suddenly devoid of protest. 

“Let me feel your forehead” Bayley demands as she places her cool palm against Sasha’s burning skin, “definitely a fever” she notes like she’s an actual nurse. But when she tries to pull away, Sasha holds onto her wrist keeping her there.

“Stay, it feels good” Sasha requests, Bayley’s hand still not fully back to normal from the cold weather. Bayley laughs, but doesn’t oblige to Sasha’s wishes, instead removing herself from Sasha’s proximity. 

There’s a change in her face as she transforms from friend-Bayley to mom-Bayley.

She’s moves to Sasha’s dresser, knowing she’ll find a hair tie there, before coming back to Sasha’s side. 

“Let me tie your hair up, it’s all over the place, and just drawing more heat around your head and neck” 

Sasha obliges easily, leaning forward as Bayley pulls her hair together and back into a loose low ponytail. Bayley admires her handy-work for a moment, making sure she didn’t miss any stray blue hairs, but the moment lasts too long. Long enough for Bayley to contemplate covering Sasha’s chapped lips with her own, but at the same time she remembers that Seth is only a few feet away.

“Seth?” Bayley calls to him as he’s been silently watching Bayley up until now, “could you go to the closet in the hallway and get a washcloth? They should be in the top left corner.” She asks, knowing this house too well. Seth nods once, moving toward his assigned task with a dedicated salute. “Aye aye, captain”

Sasha laughs. Bayley starts to understand the charm of the goofy jock. 

Bayley does her part in raiding the family bathroom for cold and flu medicine and a water bottle from the fridge. 

Seth makes it back to Sasha’s room first, washcloth in hand.

“Could you go wet it with cold water?” he retreats instantly once more toward Sasha’s adjacent bathroom.

Bayley sits on the side of Sasha’s bed next to her where’s she’s still sat up, handing her a small medicine cup filled with the purple liquid. Sasha eyes it questioningly.

Bayley huffs shorty, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s gonna taste bad” Sasha answers quickly, unashamed of her complaint.

“It’s two minutes of a bad taste, or an unknown addition of time of feeling like shit” the brunette tries to convince her, knowing Sasha will go for the logical choice.

“She’s got a point” Seth’s agrees, just having returned with the wet washcloth, putting in his two cents when Sasha still looks skeptical.

But then she’s throwing it back like a shot of liquor, giving no reaction, but a hard swallow and shutting her eyes for a second. 

“Yo, that was kind of badass” Seth remarks. 

Sasha lifts her eyebrows in response as if to say “and what about it?” but Seth doesn’t react to the challenge, just offers Bayley the washcloth she’d requested. 

She folds it to make a thin rectangle, as she forces Sasha to drink some water before telling her to lay back down. She places the cold compression onto Sasha’s forehead hoping it will reduce her fever.

“There,” Bayley starts like she’d finished her magnum opus, “now you won’t need to hold my hand hostage” 

They all laugh, but Sasha looks at her like she’s wrong. Sasha doesn’t need Bayley’s cold hands against her forehead, but she takes Bayley’s hand in hers keeping her from moving off the side of her bed. 

Sasha watches Bayley, brown looking into brown. Eyes shifting across faces as the silence fills the room.

Seth sits on the floor a few feet away, his knees folded into his chest, as he watches them quietly. Bayley reaches up to push baby hairs back that didn’t make it into the hair tie, to brush away a streak of cold water running down the side of Sasha’s face from the washcloth, and once again Seth feels out of place: watching them, when they are only looking at each other.

He clears his throat, pushing himself off the floor.

“I’m gonna- I’ll let you two be alone” He offers quietly.

And oddly enough, Bayley is the one that protests, “You can stay” she offers back. It’s funny what one visit to Sasha’s can do for a man’s image. 

“Nah, it’s okay” he smiles softly to himself, waving it off, “I’ll go see if the dinner down the street will give me chicken soup this early in the morning, she’s gotta eat something at some point” he reassures Bayley nodding toward Sasha.

Bayley nods, and Seth is on his way. 

Sasha squeezes Bayley’s hand, bringing her attention from the doorway back to Sasha’s face. Sasha’s hand in sweaty, but Bayley can’t bring herself to care about the unpleasant moisture, or the potential germs she’s putting herself near.

“Thank you for coming” Sasha whispers, sniffling slightly, her voice groggy and barely there. Bayley half smiles for just a second, looking down at their joined hands as she nods. 

“Seth’s a good guy” Bayley changes the subject, not wanting to be praised for her instinctual acts of kindness. And she means it. She didn’t want it to be true, but she sees his care now, and as hard as it is, she wants Sasha to know that she’s trying.

Sasha doesn’t really react, pretends like no one else exists, squeezes Bayley’s hand like she knows how hard that was for Bayley to admit. And the lack of words pushes her to a new place of unwanted unknown. So speaks again, derailing the serious tone.

“But, he was wearing my Paramore sweater, so I’m going to have to kill him” 

Sasha chuckles shortly, her eyes getting heavier, “Sorry. He didn’t bring a jacket and he went in my closet, I’m a little too sick to protest right now. Besides I’ve worn that old thing 1000 times and you’ve never tried to kill me” Sasha explains.

“Ha!” Bayley scoffs, “as far as you know” and Sasha can’t help, but full belly laugh even if she’s about to fall asleep.

“You’d never and you know it!” Sasha jokes back, severely offended.

“Eh, I guess you’re right” Bayley offers in defeat.

“And why’s that?”

“Cuz you’re you.” she answers so quickly, so softly, without a second thought.

_ You’re you _ settles on them thick like an impromptu rainstorm that floods every street in the city.

“I’m sorry...for everything” Sasha says after a moment of silence, a space in time where Sasha is grateful for all the colors she can see, as she looks away from Bayley unable to bear the sight of her reaction as she swallows visibly.

“Me too” Bayley gifts her back, placing her free hand on Sasha’s cheek pulling her back to look at her.

“No,” Sasha tries again, “you were just trying to protect me, and I was selfish and stupid, and I’m sorry”

Bayley can feel the rise and fall of Sasha’s chest, the way her breaths seem deeper now, her heart rate moving quicker. The last thing she wants is for Sasha to cry. It feels like a confession of validation, an understanding that things are complicated and mistakes were made, but that they’re  _ here  _ now, a place where communication is granted, where Sasha knows she’s done wrong and is owning up to it.

It feels different, because Bayley is usually the one to swallow her pride and come running back without an apology, but Sasha’s showing she cares enough to keep trying for whatever they are, to change for the better. 

“Okay”

“Okay?”

Bayley nods, “apology accepted”

And Bayley can feel the relief rippling off Sasha’s skin, the clean breath she lets out. 

It’s not a fairytale ending, but it’s not an ending at all. Bayley knows there’s still new growth to find, more instances of struggle and redemption, that life is a winding road without conclusion or closure. And she knew then that she’ll always be willing to keep trying as long as Sasha doesn’t give up either.

They stay like that, the door open to vulnerability, as Bayley makes her drink more water, and Sasha doesn’t let her let go of her hand, until Seth returns.

“I’m baaack” he draws out bounding up the steps, “chicken noodle soup, chicken noodle soup, chicken noodle soup with a soda on the side” he sings the 2006 classic dancing awkwardly with his brown paper bag presumably filled with…(you guessed it:) chicken noodle soup, as he comes into view of Sasha and Bayley again.

Sasha casts him a judgemental look, but Bayley looks at him amused. He straightens himself suddenly, like he’s just realized he’s not alone, “Sorry! I didn’t get any soda! That song was just stuck in my head the whole way back!” 

Bayley laughs at his antics, as well as her own stupidity for not giving this complete doofus a chance prior to today. 

“Oh shit, did I ruin a moment?” He questions in fear when he notices Sasha’s glare. 

“You’re all good, Seth” Bayley answers, squeezing Sasha’s hand, and smiling up at him.

Bayley lets go of her hand and makes her way to the door, offering “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna grab some bowls” trying to deflect from Sasha’s pout.

She returns shortly with 3 bowls and 3 spoons, before pouring some of the large quart of soup into each bowl, not trusting Seth to get it in without spilling onto Sasha’s carpet. 

And the three of them sit there in Sasha’s room at 10 am eating chicken noodle soup, laughing at small things, talking about only things trivial, forgetting the heavy rocks behind, and living in a moment where only  _ now  _ is relevant. 

Bayley isn’t even mad when Seth spills broth on her sweater. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lowkey feel like its been forever but its only been like 2 weeks...  
THINGS AARE LOOKING UP FOR OUR HEROES!!!  
i like this chapter cuz its not super angsty and THEYRE SOFT AND DOMESTIC  
no charlotte and becky really tho ...and thats sad  
...i feel i write Seth like a clumsy puppy,,,but he's a teenage boy...so accurate
> 
> ANYWAY   
only a few more chapters left i think, i dont actually have anything planned after this one so wish me luck


	13. Sasha's boyfriend

Perhaps being friends with your soulmate’s _ boyfriend _isn’t the best idea, but Bayley doesn’t know how to be anything, but understanding especially when it comes to Sasha. Seth had made a good case that day at Sasha’s house, and Bayley couldn’t just forget how caring he was, how he wasn’t cruel or jealous toward their friendship.

So they push on in a fashion of settling into new relationships. Bayley learns that Seth is exactly the well-intentioned goofball that he’d previously shown himself to be, always cracking a dumb joke, putting on a silly voice, or doing something reckless yet wholesome with Becky. Roman was smarter than she’d initially thought. Now that she wasn’t trying to ignore everything about them, she’d noticed how often he raised his hand in class, how he’d grin to himself after getting back a test. And there was something so gentle about the intimidating teenager, in the way he helped Seth with his Science homework and bought Charlotte her favorite candy just to make her smile. As more time goes on, it only gets more difficult to ignore that not only are they good people, but they all mesh well as a group of 6. 

Bayley can’t deny that Roman makes jokes that only Bayley and Charlotte are smart enough to understand, or that Becky’s weirdly good at memorizing all of their coffee orders. The chaos of Seth, Sasha, and Becky is met with the maturity of Bayley, Charlotte, and Roman. Charlotte and Roman take up working out together, Seth tries to teach Sasha how to skateboard (but she’s not very good), Becky and Seth plot to buy some weed off a guy in an alley and Charlotte literally smacks some sense into them, Sasha forces Bayley to come to her and Seth’s Sunday morning hangouts and make them watch Sailor Moon against their will, Charlotte re-bleaches the section of Seth’s hair for him, and there’s a general sense of camaraderie, of wanting to be there for each other, and riding the wave of highschool together. 

What’s weird too is a new sense of being known, because prior to hanging out with Seth and Roman the group of four wasn’t exactly popular. Charlotte was the Volleyball team captain so she was known among the popular jocks, but she never hung out with those people outside of practice and games. Becky was known on the basis of being Charlotte’s soulmate or for being the only kid not from America. And well Sasha was the opposite of popular, an outcast for the fact that no one was allowed to touch her, and Bayley never minded that, never thought twice about the social status she obtained from hanging around Sasha. But now it was different, now that Sasha was letting people in and bullies didn’t really have anything to pick on her for, especially now that anyone who tried would face the wrath of Seth and Roman.

Now popular kids were nice to them. It was kind of stupid that they only saw Bayley, Sasha, Becky, and Charlotte worthy of their attention because Seth and Roman were friends with them, but it still felt good to be noticed, to know you weren’t at the bottom of the food chain. And Roman was never like that, never let his spot as tight end on the football team go to his head, never tried to sleep with girls just because he could, never used his status as a means to get what he wants. Seth was there once, Roman explained to Bayley one night.

They were the last two at Butterfly Cafe one night, sipping on the last of their coffee as they took a break from cramming Physics notes, a class only Bayley and Roman took amongst their group. 

“He used to let it all get to his head”, Roman explains after a story about Roman catching Seth with a girl in the boy’s locker room before the two were really friends, “I think he was just lonely, afraid he wasn’t gonna find his soulmate, so there wasn’t really a point”.

Bayley nodded, not really knowing why Roman was telling her this, but wanting to be there to listen. Roman seemed stoic often in public, but it was times like this that reminded Bayley that he was all heart, looking like he needed someone to nod and just tell him he’s not crazy.

“It’s not really my story to tell,” Roman starts again making sure there’s firm eye contact, “but I know Seth trusts you”

_ Me? _

Bayley wants to question it, but Roman seems so sure. She lets it settle for a moment before he continues.

“Seth’s mom died when he was little, he’s watched his dad mourn her almost everyday of his life. You don’t move on from soulmates”

Bayley knew he was referring to Seth’s parents, but it felt like a slap in the face, a reason to get back on the horse, no matter how hard the terrain. And it sort of reminds her about the conversations her and Sasha had before they knew they were soulmates, the cruelty of the world.

“And I guess he’s sort of felt hopeless ever since” Roman adds, and Bayley tries to think it over, the way Seth always seemed so care-free, always trying to make people laugh. It never occurred to her that he was struggling behind closed doors.

“I saw something in him even when he was being a little douchebag, sleeping around, telling people off, almost flunking out, and I know I’ve helped him, but there’s been an even bigger change now”

Bayley looks at him in question suddenly not following and Roman starts again to explain.

“Look Seth’s not the most open dude, especially when it comes to emotions, but being friends with you guys has made him better somehow, like he still has low moments, but he feels so genuinely loved by all of you, like there’s this new light to him that even I couldn’t bring out” Roman finishes, looking genuinely grateful, and Bayley can’t help but smile.

Because as much as the words want to settle in a place that means Seth loves Sasha, they don’t. The words find the part of her mind that knows no flaws, buries itself in the brain tissue that tells her that Seth loves all of them, that perhaps there’s good to come from whatever they all have together. But that makes it even harder: knowing that fighting for Sasha is a direct motion of war in taking Seth’s happiness away.

Bayley wants to cry: for the pain Seth has endured, for the sunshine they’ve restored, for the person she is, and the one she wants to be.

But Roman smiles at her, like everything is okay, like a “thank you” for the friendship they’ve stitched together in such a short time.

Neither Roman or Bayley ever mention the moment again, to each other or anyone else, like a sacred whisper only meant for 4 ears. Roman winks at her after, in times where Seth is smiling extra wide, and Bayley tries to pretend she can’t feel the buzz of love behind it.

But being ”popular” has other perks like Seth and Roman dragging the four girls to parties. That had never really been their scene: Charlotte never drank, claiming herself too pristine and focused on maintaining her clean image; Becky prefered whiskey to whatever jungle juice that tended to serve at these types of functions, Bayley didn’t love the idea of a bunch of teenagers committing illegal acts all under one roof, and Sasha had never really liked crowds (before and after seeing color). But Seth had begged, pouting profusely over the course of the week. Becky caved first, when Seth bet that she couldn’t beat him in a game of Beer Pong, and Charlotte had to tag along to watch her. Bayley and Sasha were more difficult. Bayley said “yes” only after the way Roman had looked at her the second time Seth asked, like a reminder of how much it would mean to him. Sasha wasn’t hard to convince once she knew Bayley was coming.

At first everything seems okay: Charlotte is designated driver, of course, watching on in regal support as Becky kicks Seth’s ass in Beer Pong outside on the back porch, Roman and Sasha are inside, dancing on the makeshift dance floor with a group of about 50 other teenagers, Bayley watches on from her position stood alone by the sliding door that leads to the porch.

It’s a comical scene really: the way Roman sassily grinds on Sasha before she pretends to smack his ass repeatedly. Bayley finds herself laughing as she takes sips of whatever weird concoction Becky had handed her when they first got to the party. Roman and Sasha weren’t drinking tonight, something about “keeping an eye on Seth and Bayley”, but Bayley hadn’t had enough to even feel tipsy at this point.

She contemplates how bad this all could go if she let herself drink too much, the possibility of overstepping with Sasha and not being able to control herself or take it back. The second of being caught up with her thoughts leads her to lose Sasha and Roman in the crowd causing a moment of panic in the loss of her safety net among these kids she barely knew the names of.

But her phone buzzes before she can really think about being truly alone.

** _May i have this dance? ;) _ **the text from Sasha reads, and Bayley can’t help, but smile back at it.

** _I don’t dance _ **Bayley replies without much thought, it's the truth, she doesn’t dance, especially not among people who only like her because of her new friends.

Sasha just sends back the pouting emoji, but not putting up a fight, not pushing her to do anything she’s not comfortable with. 

She lets it go, tries not to think too much about what she’s gaining or losing by not moving from her spot, from not knowing what they’d be doing, how Sasha would be looking at her, dancing with her. 

But the thoughts don’t stay for long as she hears the door slide open behind her, an eased sound compared to the blasting music. She watches as Becky, Charlotte, and Seth enter the house. Charlotte stops to pull her into a hug, always the caring mother, pulling her close enough for Bayley to hear her question of “You okay?” prompting a firm nod from the brunette.

Becky’s got a firm smile on her face, but Charlotte never lets go of her wrist, knowing the buzz will turn into Becky needing to sit down sooner rather than later.

“I won” Becky says smugly referring to her game against Seth.

“You sure did, Becks” Charlotte says shaking her head mock disappointedly, secretly thinking Becky is cute no matter her state of sobriety or lack thereof, pulling her in so that Becky can rest her head on her chest, placing soft kisses on her orange hair line.

Seth simply smiles at her, his eyes a little glazed, looking content in his efforts against Becky, but he doesn’t linger for long soon moving toward the ocean of people dancing a few feet away. 

Bayley watches him, following his path with her eyes as he finds Roman and Sasha on the dance floor. She doesn’t have a perfect view with the poor lighting and the large amount of people, but she can make out their silhouettes, can see Sasha pulling Seth closer. She briefly looks over to Charlotte and Becky to see if they were seeing what she was. She should have known better than to think the two soulmates would be looking at anything, but each other.

She looks back up just in time to see Seth pull onto Sasha’s wrist, pull her toward him enough to whisper in her ear. It looks intimate, a need to whisper more than the loud music. 

But Sasha is looking at him then like he’d done something terribly wrong, pulling her wrist from his grip and telling him off. Bayley knows what Sasha’s anger looks like: the wrinkles on her forehead, the way her jaw sets in place, the vein that protrudes from her neck, but there’s pain there too, in the way her eyes change and Bayley can see her swallow down whatever hate she wants to spew. And Bayley can’t hear them, but Seth looks apologetic, tries his best to calm her down. And then they’re hugging. Bayley watches as he pulls her in, his hand on the back of her neck, until her face buries into his chest. Bayley can see the harsh breath she takes as if she’d been the one pressed against Sasha.

But the sight is too much. The sight of Seth comforting Sasha in the middle of a high school party, where Bayley is the least worthy person in the room, and no one is there to convince her otherwise. 

“I need some air” Bayley voices, even if Charlotte and Becky are lost in their own little bubble. Bayley throws back the little left in her cup, crushing the plastic flat in her hand and dropping it to the floor, not caring about the impoliteness for once. She opens the sliding door and steps outside, closing it behind her. 

It’s dark outside, but the porch light is bright enough to show her most of the backyard. The loud music is still audible, but the beat fails to pierce her ears in the same way. It’s less congested back here, a group of scattered teenagers vaping in one corner, a new set of teams have taken up the Beer Pong table, a couple making out against a tree, kids drinking and talking in small groups. No one pays the quiet brunette any mind as she takes up a free corner on the porch against the railing, looking out towards the moon, waiting for the racing of her heart to settle, waiting for the cool air to combat the heat in her cheeks.

She watches the sky hoping it will give her the answers she’s looking for, because she’s never felt more hopeless, never felt like there was an endpoint to their tale, where she’d have to stop trying. But right now it feels like a harsh slap in the face, like she’d been trying for the last 4 years of her life to be someone for Sasha to love, and has come out on the other end with nothing to show for it. A waste. And that reality hits her hard.

Hard enough to crumble in on herself until she’s sitting in the fetal position, her back pressed to the wood railing of the porch, as silent tears roll down her cheeks. She doesn’t know what she wants: to be noticed or left alone, but it doesn’t change that she’s invisible to everyone around her. And it's clear then that she was never good enough for Sasha in the first place, or she wouldn’t be crying alone at a party surrounded by people more worthy of love than she is. And she looks up again to find the stars, to try to understand why the universe had made her soulmate someone that she could never have, trying to convince herself that the alcohol is to blame for the emotional buzz.

But the sound of the sliding door catches her attention as it opens again to reveal Seth. He looks shaken up, and out of place. Bayley can tell the pale of his cheeks is from more than just the beer he’d consumed. Bayley wipes her face, hoping to remove the tears and redness in case he notices her, but he doesn’t look her way, instead making a rushed beeline off the porch and into the actual backyard. Bayley turns to watch him as he stands by a far tree pacing over a small area of grass. 

She watches as he rubs his hands over his face in an effort to calm himself, as the spare light brushes over his face. As much as Bayley hates it, her usual mode of empathy springs free, wondering what had occurred inside since her departure, why Seth seemed so worked up, and what it had to do with Sasha. But the brunette doesn’t have much time to contemplate getting up to see what’s wrong, because heavy steps hit the wood panels next, a sound that brings Bayley’s attention back to the door to find Roman scanning the backyard to find Seth, before following the same path to be by his side.

And Bayley is watching again.

And the situation feels delicate, but Bayley can’t help herself from eavesdropping. It dawns on her too, that Seth and Roman are her friends, that she shouldn’t be impeding on their trust, but the weight of the moment draws her in.

She watches as Seth’s defenses crumble under the weight of Roman’s comforting hand on his shoulder, as Roman pulls Seth against his chest. The intimacy striking her in the fact that she’s never seen them like this before, guards completely down. It makes Bayley think of her conversation with Roman, that perhaps he was the only person to get all of Seth’s walls to come down.

“Hey, we’re gonna figure this out.” Roman says in a hushed voice that the wind carries to Bayley’s ears, as Roman holds Seth’s jaw between his hands, their eyes locked. 

But then they are kissing. Roman’s mouth hard against Seth’s as he holds him up with one arm and wipes his tears away with the other. Seth only pulls him in closer, reveling in the passion Roman provides him with. 

Bayley knows that her brain is clouded at this point, so it takes a moment to realize that her eyes aren’t playing tricks on her, that her friends, people she trusts are kissing, when Seth is supposed to be with Sasha.

It feels like _ betrayal. _Like a moment where everything she’s ever thought of them ceases, where she has to remind herself to breathe, where tears well in her eyes again. The kissing doesn’t yield as her eyes go blank and her heart fills with rage.

Too many questions swimming in her head to process what’s happening like _ when had Seth and Roman started this affair? Why had they wronged Sasha so harshly? Did Sasha know she was being cheated on? Was that what they were fighting about? _

The next clear thought that crosses her mind is _ revenge. _

She’s not really sure what she’s doing as she pushes herself up into a standing position, too consumed by the path of her breathing to contemplate stopping herself. The next image she sees clearly is the back of Seth’s head in the dark up and close, her fist coming up to collide with his dark hair. 

The consequence to her actions is instant as movement from Seth pushes her forward to keep punching, seeing his face, the fear, the confusion only fuels her further, as if to say “you know what you did, you deserve this” until Bayley’s tackled him to the ground throwing unrelenting punches into his face. And it’s a little too late, but she registers Roman’s voice just as she feels his arms wrap around her stomach pulling her back. She expects rage from him too, but the pull feels more like a hug as he pulls her off of him.

“Bayley” he calls softly, a firm press of his voice in her ear, cutting against the manic episode of violence, “calm down, it’s okay” he continues to soothe her as he holds her back and let’s Seth gain back his sense of awareness. 

It’s then that Bayley is finally breathing somewhat normal again that she realizes a small crowd has gathered around them to see what was going on. Her arms try to resist against Roman’s strength, but he holds persistently, not allowing her to break free.

“You okay?” Roman speaks again, this time directing his words to Seth who still sits in the grass trying to collect himself.

Seth nods slowly, but earnestly, placing a harsh swallow between heavy breaths. 

“Someone get Sasha” is Roman’s next demand, this time toward the crowd, the first time Bayley has heard any edge to his voice about the situation, but the sound of _ her _ name, only reminds her of the betrayal, only prompts her to fight harder against Roman.

A kid she definitely goes to school with, but doesn’t know the name of listens to Roman’s words, running back into the house only to return with Sasha by his side a few moments later.

Seeing Sasha is what stops Bayley from trying to fight back: the way she looks so disappointed, and confused, the way Sasha looks at her like she’d truly fucked up beyond repair. Bayley knows “sorry” isn’t going to cut it. 

There’s even more betrayal in the way Sasha moves to check on Seth, kneels down by his side brushing hair out of his face and stroking the forming bruise along his cheek.

The action is enough for Bayley to want to burst, to lay everything on the line for everyone to see. Its now or never.

“Your little boyfriend over here is cheating on you and you still care about him more” Bayley spits out in uncommon unfiltered anger, pushing hard against Roman again, only getting more heated when he only holds on harder.

Seth and Sasha’s heads both snap up to the sound of her cracked voice, but the looks on their faces are not the shame and despair Bayley expects. Instead there’s only confusion before Seth is speaking, too exasperated for Bayley to dismiss it.

“Boyfriend?” he starts, his face crinkling up like he can’t comprehend that possibility, “We’re not..” He pauses, trying to collect himself, “Roman and I are soulmates”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all: thank you guys for allowing me to take breaks from this in order to fulfill my other Baysha writing needs like i know i took forever from the last chapter but ya'll stay dealing with me
> 
> second of all: shout out to ahunter8056 aka hunTAH for always encouraging me to keep going! And the entire WWE fanfic writers discord! ya'll are a support I didn't know I needed. (ps if ur tryna read some sad af well written 4hw friendship look know further than his new fic)
> 
> third of all: listen pls dont be mad at me,,,,i know i dragged this chapter,,, just to end it like that (we love a plot twist) and then to like leave it cliff hanger-esque like mid situation....but i gotta make the hard decisions...so like calm down...i already started writing chapter 14 so dont cry too much pls
> 
> And fucking finally: SURVIVOR SERIES SPOILERS XD: wtf was that bruh?


	14. goosebumps and new skin

"Your little boyfriend over here is cheating on you and you still care about him more” Bayley spits out in uncommon unfiltered anger, pushing hard against Roman again, only getting more heated when he only holds on harder.

Seth and Sasha’s heads both snap up to the sound of her cracked voice, but the looks on their faces are not the shame and despair Bayley expects. Instead there’s only confusion before Seth is speaking, too exasperated for Bayley to dismiss it.

“Boyfriend?” he starts, his face crinkling up like he can’t comprehend that possibility, “We’re not...Roman and I are soulmates”

Bayley’s eyebrows furrow as the words sink in, as the gravity of what she’s done truly hits her. She wants to lash out, say Seth is lying, but he’s never looked more confused, more scared, and Sasha is looking at her like she’s helpless, like she’s sorry for letting it get to this place. The anger drains from her body, replaced with contempt and self-pity as her muscles go slack, and Roman can feel it, releases his harsh grip, but replaces it with caring hands that hold her up.

“Everybody fuck off” Roman demands in a voice Bayley’s only heard him use when he’s directing a play on the football field. And it works, the group of teens around them moving away from them and back inside. 

Bayley is looking at her feet, feeling utterly sorry for herself, feeling beyond stupid. The words aren’t really processing further than the fact that she let her emotions dictate what she took as truth without question.

But there isn’t time for the self-hatred to bounce around her skull for very long, because Sasha is next to her. She doesn’t look Bayley in the eye, but there’s a firmness to her voice that Bayley would not dare to disobey.

“Let’s go” Sasha says way too calmly for the events that just took place, too strong to not make Bayley’s heart crumble just a little bit more. 

Roman’s hands shift off of her, and the air carries her heavy limbs in her path behind Sasha as they make their way around the house and into the front yard. Bayley isn’t really aware of her body at this point, too panicked and stressed to feel her fingertips to question where Sasha is leading her.

Sasha sits on the curb in front of the house without looking to see if Bayley is still behind her, a quick demand of “sit” comes out in a mode of frustration rather than anger, and Bayley obliges, plopping herself down on the curb, so that her knees push into her chest. 

The street lights create an ember glow over their heads, enough for Sasha to see the gray of the curb cement beneath her, enough for Bayley to not feel even more panicked. They both face the other side of the street, too afraid to look in each other’s direction in fear of pushing things further out of place.

“You wanna tell me what that was?” Sasha tries, because she knows Bayley is seeing stars as if she was the one that was punched, knows she won’t be the one to start the conversation. 

It takes a long while for Bayley to catch the pace of her thoughts again before she can really process Sasha’s question and even think about how to answer it. The words do eventually come, but in the form of another question.

“Seth and Roman are soulmates?” she needs to clarify even though Seth had said it so clearly.

“Yeah” Sasha sighs, a puff of trying to take it slow.

“I thought that you and Seth…” Bayley trails off suddenly feeling like saying it out loud makes it more real.

“Were dating” Sasha finishes for her, “Yeah I caught that somewhere in the you accusing him of cheating on me” the blue haired girl lets out a loose chuckle at the thought.

“I’m sorry” Bayley finds on her tongue, because it feels like the right thing to say, “I assumed and never asked”

“I mean I never said we weren’t” Sasha shakes her head, trying to take some of the blame from Bayley’s shoulders, “I just- It hurts that you would think I could do that to you, date someone else right in front of you, especially someone that’s your friend” 

Bayley sags further into the pavement at that, that she had painted Sasha as cruel without ever knowing the truth. And maybe making assumptions was easier than hearing it as concrete truth, but that sounded like a silly defense at this point. 

“I never meant-” Bayley starts again in a broken voice, a motive in defending herself, but not nearly convinced that she had any good excuses, but Sasha cuts her off before she can ground her feet.

“No, it’s okay, it was a dumb miscommunication, and that’s partially my fault for keeping you at arms length” Sasha sighs again, trying to take in as much oxygen as she can, “its kind of funny that Seth has been the one trying to convince me to give this whole soulmate thing a chance this whole time, all the while you thought all those instances of him pushing me to be with you were us being a couple”

She’s not sure if it’s possible, but Bayley’s heart clenches tighter at Sasha’s words. Not only had she thought so low of her soulmate, but she’d villainized a friend who was only trying to help her, villainized and punched him several times in the face.

There’s a push on her heart of true remorse at the violence she’d elected in favor of using her words, but she knows she can’t take it back and she wouldn’t blame Seth and Roman if they never wanted to speak to her again.

But there’s a bigger wave of understanding as the words finally settle in all the parts of her brain. How suddenly everything makes sense if she’d just looked a little deeper: at the way Seth said Roman’s name like he was a god, the way Roman spoke for Seth in times he couldn’t, the way Roman had looked so happy in times that Seth seemed free of burden, the way they touched in simple ways, the conversation Roman and she had at Butterfly Cafe. In fact it’s then that she’d realized how well they fit together as more than friends, and the lack of talk about their potential soulmates because they had already found each other. That’s perhaps why Sasha had made fast friends with them: there was no burden of their own color. And Bayley had never seen Seth and Sasha kiss, or even hold hands. They just seemed...together, but now there’s new meaning. Because prior to Bayley being a part of their Sunday morning hangouts, the time was reserved for Sasha to confide in Seth about how she felt about Bayley and her options. Because Seth had only ever pushed himself into Sasha’s bubble, in an effort to bring her and Bayley closer, and it’s done exactly the opposite up until this point. That the fight Bayley had watched between Seth and Sasha earlier had been about Seth telling Sasha it was time to make a move and Sasha telling him to back off.

“He’s been trying to help me this whole time and I just beat him to the ground” Bayley lets out because it’s really hitting her now, her hands coming up to cover her face, her knees pushing closer into her. 

“Listen, Sasha” Bayley starts as a new wave of guilt pushing against her veins, “I’m really sorry, like I don’t know how I could be so stupid, I totally get it if that’s the last straw for you, you can never talk to me again if-OW” her rambling stops when a harsh slap comes against her thigh from Sasha’s hand.

“Can you shut up? I’m not going anywhere okay? How many times did I fuck up? Wait, don’t answer that!” Sasha raises her voice at herself for even posing that question. The air changes in the moment of silence, Sasha’s voice coming back at a lower volume, this time less concerned with time and more focused on setting the record straight.

“We’ve both fucked up a lot” She stops again for a moment in thought, “Well,  _ I’ve  _ fucked up a lot and you fucked up this one time, but...isn’t that what we’re supposed to do, we’re teenagers we gotta fail at stuff so we can learn how to succeed”

“That doesn’t change how terrible I feel” Bayley quips.

“It doesn’t change Seth’s black eye either” Sasha adds under her breath prompting Bayley to look at her angrily.

“Sorry” Sasha giggles for bringing it up.

“Seth will come around” Sasha promises, “It’s hard to be mad at you” Sasha says it like a general statement, but Bayley can feel the way the words reign most true for Sasha, as the shorter girl pushes her hand into Bayley’s and rests her head on her shoulder. It feels intimate, yet calculated, like Sasha still isn’t sure what to do or who she wants to be to Bayley, but enough to reassure the brunette that this is real, that whatever is between them is tangible and real, and too much to be tossed away. 

“You forgave me everytime I did something stupid” Sasha whispers tightening her grip n Bayley’s hand, “without a second thought. The least I can do is forgive you too”

The space in time settles against Bayley’s skin in a rush of goosebumps and new skin, an emerging taste of the person she’d let herself become in a moment of weakness.

_ The things you do for love _

But the chill doesn’t spread far, combated by the warmth of Sasha pressed into her. 

There’s a brush of unknown territory in the sound of grass rustling, the push of heavy feet into the front lawn and down the driveway, not knowing if the threat of other’s eyes will prompt Sasha to pull away. But she doesn’t. There’s a wondering space where Bayley presses the thought through her head that allows her to cope with the potential of Sasha not wanting anyone to see them like this: intimate in the silence. And for a moment she feels the goosebumps again, but they don’t last as Sasha stays put as a few teenagers pass them by and pile into a minivan. 

And they get too used to it: the sound of people passing to realize that there’s someone that might matter in their proximity. 

“Hey” comes the heavy voice of Roman from a few steps away as he walks in front of them.

This unfortunately is the thing that pushes Sasha and Bayley apart, but it isn’t for anything other than for Bayley to take the blame by herself, a choice made by the brunette in pulling away, letting the goosebumps take hold as the cloud of unknown comes back over head. 

She stands up so that they’re face to face, a sign that the words come from a plane of understanding, sincerity in both of her feet grounded to the concrete.

“Roman, I’m so sorry, I-” Bayley rushes out in an attempt to jump over an awkwardness, to skip the chance of Roman thinking there’s a place in Bayley’s heart that isn’t remorseful. But she can see the soft grin that comes onto his face, the look in his eyes that show no anger. She stops her rant before she even really gains any traction. 

“You’re not mad?” Bayley asks, but it doesn’t really sound like a question, somehow knowing his face too well, even in the dark. 

“Nah” he offers nonchalantly, “you bruised my boy’s face, but he’ll be alright” he shrugs before continuing. “Seth might want an apology, but he’s not mad. We were both pushing a little too hard”.

And there’s a shift in the uncalculated calm. Because Sasha and Bayley both look confused.

“Pushing too hard?” Sasha questions, standing up to meet them, suddenly feeling like she’s owed some information too.

Now Roman is looking like he’s the one who’s in trouble. His hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, a sign that he has something to reveal that Bayley and Sasha might not love.

“Seth and I have sort of been making plans to get you guys together” Roman admits stopping himself from looking either of them in the eye. 

Sasha’s eyebrows raise in acute rage, “What?” she demands in an effort to gain some clarity.

“We made a pact, to help make you two an actual couple, that’s why Seth’s been trying to get you to make a move,” he directs at Sasha, “and why I’ve been trying to get Bayley to consider her own feelings” he admits in a flurry of looking like he’s scared of the consequences even if their intentions were good.

And of course Sasha is mad, because as much as she loves Roman and Seth it’s not really their place to say what’s best for her and her soulmate, but there’s pressure on the parts of her that are tired of being mad, tired of running from the people who only want to give her everything she deserves.

And what’s worse is that as she’s weighing her options, Seth makes himself known, walking out the front door into the front yard, an ice pack pressed against his cheek.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” 

And Sasha can’t contain the moment of anger. But Bayley is too good at reading her, not to sense the change, not to notice the way Sasha rolls up her sleeves, swipes at her own nose, clenches and unclenches her fists like she’s ready for a street brawl. So when Sasha takes that initial step forward to finish the job Bayley started on Seth, Bayley steps forward just in time to catch her, to hold her arms behind her back in the hope that Roman will get the picture and hold her back too, or Sasha will come to her senses.

There’s a harsh gasp from Seth as he sees his attacker this time; he raises his arms to protect his face and vital organs, but when he looks up again from behind his hand, Sasha isn’t fighting out of her grip.

Sasha steps back instead, calm enough for Bayley to let go with one hand, something taking over Sasha and satiating the bout of anger whether it be the fear on Seth’s face or Bayley’s touch.

Seth relaxes too, put down his lines of defense.

“Can we just pretend none of this ever happened?” Sasha asks in a voice that feels too resigned to put up any fight. She sinks back further, pulling Bayley’s hands forward until they are settled comfortably around her.

“Once my bruises heal” Seth laughs, but it still pulls at the parts of Bayley that feel terrible.

“Sorry” Bayley tries, but Seth waves her off still steadily applying cold pressure from the ice pack to his face.

Roman asserts himself then, coming over to Seth with a short “Let me see” before removing the ice pack, planting a soft kiss on the center of the purple mess on Seth’s face. 

It’s a striking feeling again, not really understanding how she hadn’t seen it so clearly before, and it becomes clear that she’d never been good at picking  _ soulmates  _ out.

Not with Charlotte and Becky.

Or Seth and Roman.

But she had always felt something with  _ Sasha,  _ even when they were riding bikes and Sasha was looking at her like she was crazy, even when Sasha ran over and over again, even now with Sasha pressed against her, in a proclamation of nothing, but a necessary pillar in holding her up. 

And Bayley hadn’t drank too much, but she felt wasted. Because something had to be wrong for her to punch Seth, for them to forgive her so easily, for Sasha to be requesting Bayley’s arms and not acting like the implications of warmth were too much.

The feeling is  _ new. _

  
But it tickles at the places of her heart that sing  _ home  _ in the feeling of her friends around her, in Sasha’s knuckles under her fingertips, in the night sky shining enough to see the purple of Seth’s bruise and the blue of Sasha’s hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall we have a chapter that actually ends without adding more chaos 
> 
> maybe one or two chapters left i have no clue how im gonna end it but i dont see it stretching out much longer, dont kill me if it takes awhile to update, cuz idk how to finish this yet and im working 42 hrs this week and im not tryna die of sleep deprivation
> 
> thx for sticking around through the semi cliff hanger and the several days i went without acting like i needed to update...
> 
> anyway


	15. Barren fields and cold feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 15, i know its been a hot minute since i updated so heres a necessary recap if yall aint tryna read the last 14 chapters to know whats happening...  
Recap:  
Bayley and Sasha are soulmates (duh) but Sasha hates soulmates (Duh 2.0). Bayley thought Sasha and Seth we’re dating. Bayley sees Seth kissing Roman at a party theyre all at and then beats Seth to the ground to defend Sasha’s honor (ya know fucking knight shit), come to find out Seth and Roman are soulmates and Seth and Sasha were never dating. Bayley spirals for a sec but soulmate sasha calms her down. Sasha and Bayley forgive each other for being dumb. Seth and Roman forgive Bayley for the beat down...because Seth and Roman were plotting behind their backs to get them together.   
And that’s what you missed on...glee....

Returning to school again feels vacant, like a play though of classes could never come close to the burst of energy in new found treasure. Because Sasha isn’t running anymore, too encapsulated in the pain she’d caused Bayley to ever leave her again. Because Sasha had never seen such anger out of Bayley, never seen her resort to violence ever, but Sasha had hurt her enough, had let her believe something was going on between Seth and herself, let the evil grow enough for Bayley to use it, and that wasn’t something Sasha would ever let happen again. Determined to right the wrong that she always let grow too long. She’d cut her own roots if it meant Bayley’s heart had a place to play.

And Bayley feels full of love, despite Sasha still not making a decision. Because Seth and Roman forgave her for beating Seth’s face in. Because they’d been dedicating time and energy to get her and Sasha together despite the possible consequences. Because Becky had hugged her close when they left the party, her drunken state impairing a sense of boundaries. Because Charlotte brushed the dirt off her jeans and looked at her like she hadn’t lost control.

And Seth’s face is healing, the purple bruises fading into woes of green and yellow. 

But rumors travel fast at McMahon High School, faster than the truth can find it. 

So the bruises on Seth’s face, the school’s golden boy, need an explanation. So the cheerleaders find an easy target in blaming Bayley. Villainizing the otherwise benevolent student to the point of finding reason to tease her, to threaten physical violence. And sure, it’s true that Bayley was the reason for the color in Seth’s face, but there is no transport of information in that Seth kind of deserved it, or that he’d already forgiven her. 

Which leaves room for another misunderstanding, which means Bayley is greeted with dirty looks Monday morning as she enters the front lobby of school. Enough dirty looks for it to break through the fullness in her heart. 

It might be too early for Bayley’s chipper attitude and smile, but it’s also too early for someone to try to break her positivity. 

“Why’s everyone staring?” Bayley asks Becky at her locker, too overcome by the intensity of eyes glued to her to not comment on it.

“Oh, haven’t ya heard? You beat up Roman’s baby boy and now everyone hates you!” Becky answers chewing loudly on some baby carrots from a plastic ziplock bag. 

Bayley looks at her like she’s crazy. “But Seth and I are cool. Why are they so…” Bayley’s focus shifts from the sea of students paying extra attention to her, to Becky full cheeks, gnawing heartily on the hard vegetable, “Why do you have a gallon sized bag of baby carrots?” she voices confused like she’s just now processed it’s presence.

“Seth and I made a bet where we can only eat food that’s one color” Becky answers like that’s totally normal, like it needs no further explanation, shrugging as she bites into a new carrot.

“And you chose orange?” Bayley asks suddenly losing interest in the student body’s sudden hatred for her.

“No, we chose for each other” Becky claims like it should be obvious.

Bayley furrows both eyebrows, never seeming to get used to Becky’s antics, especially since they’ve been coupled alongside Seth’s strange behavior as of late. 

“What color did you choose for him?” Bayley asks, putting the weird aside in favor of forgetting about her peers hateful glares. 

Becky chuckles to herself seemingly content with her choice as Bayley closes her locker.

“Purple” 

Bayley laughs too. As much as Becky’s and Seth’s plans usually get them in trouble (mostly in the form of Charlotte reprimanding them) this challenge seems safe, even has Becky eating something other than quinoa in heavy quantities. 

So Bayley lets the plan continue, lets Becky continue to chomp away, hoping maybe it’ll serve as a distraction from the people looking at her like a mass murderer. But the sentiment isn’t enough.

Because Sasha texts Bayley to meet her in the second floor bathroom after fourth period without an explanation.

“Are you okay?” Sasha asks upon Bayley pushing the bathroom door open, seemingly searching her body for any signs of injury.

“Yeah, I’m fine” Bayley shrugs, stepping away from Sasha’s intense gaze. Hoping the words cover the extent of both her physical and emotional well-being, because although there are no signs of physical pain, Sasha can feel the fear radiating from under Bayley’s skin: the last thing Bayley wanted was a fight, especially after she’d reaped the consequences of her own violence (reliving the loss of control every time she saw Seth’s face was painful enough).

“Shit” Sasha releases in a moment of startling relief, “I heard some guys saying they were gonna get revenge for Seth…” she trails off not wanting to imagine exactly what they’d meant, “I just wanted to make sure...I thought they hurt you” 

Sasha’s eyes water enough for a tear to break free, just at the idea that Bayley could be hurt. The abrupt show of emotion enough for Bayley to want to make it stop. She pulls Sasha in without a second thought, too consumed by Sasha’s pain to see boundaries. There’s an energy that breaks free. Something of the same cloth as when they’d been sitting on the pavement, discussing mistakes and making peace. 

Something specific to soulmates, and the way tears come so readily in the wake of Bayley’s presummed pain, but Sasha hadn’t cried at Seth’s bruises. The way Sasha’s hair seems to glow against the contrast of Bayley’s, the way color seems to shine brighter against brown irises every time there was skin to skin contact. The way Sasha fit so perfectly between Bayley’s arms, an ease in Bayley’s hand rubbing between her shoulder blades, and the way Sasha held her just as close.

It felt like something Bayley had to cling to. It always had. Like she’d been starved for a touch only Sasha could provide. But there was an itch in her brain at how long she’d gone without it, how well she’d survived among barren fields and cold feet. At how easy it was to see the love in her friends eyes: Charlotte, Becky, Seth, Roman, and Sasha, without there ever being a need for true love. 

So she clings onto the warmth, knowing in her heart that Sasha’s choices don’t define her grace, not enough for her to give up on all the other people in her life. 

It’s a liberating curse, as she still yearns for Sasha to choose love, but knows that survival is not dependant on it.

Tears evaporate in a ploy of proving that nothing lasts forever and eventually Sasha pulls away.

“Sorry” Sasha voices in response to her own actions, readily taking up space in Bayley’s bubble, assuming she’d already been hurt, not knowing what to do. 

“We have to stop apologizing for being human” 

It seems simple, but the warning hits home for both of them. Like Bayley is forgetting all the times that Sasha ran away, like she’s dismantling the voice of anyone seeking revenge on her or anyone else. Like Sasha has only ever acted in the interest of empathy and protection. 

There isn’t a discussion of the way it makes Sasha question where they stand, or if she’s allowed to kiss Bayley, considering everything that’s transpired over the last few days. Because it feels like Bayley just wants to move forward, wants to be soulmates the way the universe had intended, but it feels like pushback as well. A stance in telling Sasha that none of it mattered and that it never will, because they’d never be together anyway: not when Sasha could be so cruel, not when Bayley would let her take advantage over and over again. 

So Sasha doesn’t kiss her; it feels too easy. 

Instead, she gathers her bookbag from the floor and swings it over her shoulder, ready to get to her next class. 

There’s an unspoken plan that follows them all the way to Bayley’s next class. Sasha walking in step with her like a wall of protection from harsh stares and evil words. Bayley knows what’s happening: Sasha escorting her to class in an attempt at making both of them feel more at ease, a look in Sasha’s eyes that says “wait for me to come get you when the bell rings”, a fear in leaving Bayley unattended.

It doesn’t go entirely unnoticed that not so long ago, Sasha was the one needing protection. Sasha was the one who didn’t want to be looked at or touched or harassed in favor of not wanting to find her soulmate. But so much had changed since then. Bayley had been the one, and Sasha hadn’t wanted her.

It feels like a slap in her own face. That she could see the love in Bayley’s brown eyes and say “no” so earnestly. And maybe it’s the guilt driving Sasha now, maybe it’s the pain in seeing Bayley suffer for so long under her own hand, maybe it’s too much to see anyone else add onto the pile she’d started. 

Either way, Sasha sticks to her unspoken promise in coming back to Bayley’s classroom and walking her to the cafeteria. Their knuckles brush as the congestion of the hallway pushes them closer together, but Sasha swallows down the desire to hold her hand, pushes down the thought that Bayley would ever want her now.

Bayley had to decide if it was still worth it, if fighting for Sasha was a must, and Sasha had to be content in waiting after she’d forced Bayley to wait this long.

Upon entering the cafeteria, Bayley recognizes clear contrast: a sea of people still acting like she was the enemy even if they had never spoken to her before, seemingly equipped with a series of gray clouds swimming above their heads, and her friends, sunshine when Charlotte looks up at her and smiles, benevolent clouds in Becky’s happy greeting, miles of open blue in the comforting strength of Roman’s arm that settles against her shoulder as she takes a seat next to him, and the love tap Seth kicks into the side of her calf. 

“Is Seth eating a raw onion?” Sasha asks as Seth crunches into a whole onion and chews, as tears prick at his eyes. 

“I’m only allowed to eat purple foods” He shrugs like it should make sense to Sasha, like onions are his best and only option. 

Becky snickers from her place across from him knowing full well she’s the reason why he’s suffering. 

“You couldn’t think of anything else?” Charlotte voices always the voice of reason. 

“Like grapes” Roman offers.

“Purple potatoes” Bayley adds.

“Would eggplant count?” Sasha asks.

“Stop giving him options” Becky demands, “let him eat his onion”

It’s then that Roman notices a commotion of people talking louder than usual, a gaggle of teenagers gossiping a few feet away, their attention obviously trained on Roman’s and Bayley’s close proximity. 

Roman hadn’t seen Bayley all day, didn’t know people were acting so antagonistically. But he’d gotten questions about it, what he’d planned to do for revenge, but he ignored it, hoping the flames would die down as soon as a new piece of gossip entered the schools basis of knowledge, like all other drama would usually blow over. 

But he saw the way they were looking at Bayley, knew in his heart that these people wouldn’t let it go without intervention.

There isn’t a second thought in protecting his friend and setting the record straight. He pushes his lunch tray forward enough to leave an open space, climbing to stand up on the table, stomping twice to garner the cafeteria’s attention. 

“Listen up” Roman’s voice rattled with intensity, something of a lion protecting his cubs from hyenas, “We don’t owe any of you an explanation, what happened between Seth and Bayley is none of your business.” He speaks loud enough for everyone to hear, “Everything is fine. No one will be getting revenge or hurting my friends. Or you’re gonna have a problem with me”

Bayley had never seen what was so great about being popular, but being captain of the football team meant Roman had respect over anything else. And just as her classmates had blindly followed the idea that Roman and Seth wanted revenge, their peers would also listen to his call for them to drop it. 

It’s not totally lost on her, as Roman takes his seat again, throws his arm back over her shoulder, a lifeline of support, that he didn’t have to do that, didn’t have to waste energy in telling everyone to fuck off, but he did for her.

And again her heart swells in a way that isn’t blue hair and brown eyes. Its hardened strength in the way Roman serves as an example of loyalty, in the way she feels safe pressed into his side, in the way he looks at her like keeping her safe will always be worth the extra effort. 

She’s only broken out of her thoughts at the sound of Charlotte’s voice.

“Becky. Darling, that’s disgusting” she cries out in a mix of trying not to sound dismissive, but recognizing the insanity of her soulmate. 

Bayley looks up to find the source of Charlotte’s comment. Becky, to all of their horror (except Seth), is eating a bag of candy corn, but not the normal way a normal person would. Of course not.

Becky takes an individual piece between her lips, biting off just the orange section before spitting the other two thirds of the candy onto Charlotte’s empty styrofoam lunch tray. 

“What happened to your carrots?” Bayley asks when she remembers this morning, hoping to save them all from the sight of Becky violently separating poor candy corn heads from the rest of their bodies.

Becky looks sheepish, “I finished them” she reveals like an ashamed child, admitting something she knows will get her in trouble.

“Babe! You really ate all those carrots?” Charlotte calls out, afraid Becky’s going to get herself sick. 

“Well, yeah! They’re the only thing I can eat that has nutritional value!” Becky tries to defend herself. 

Sasha burst out laughing, something about knowing Becky for so long and the way she’s always been like this. Something so ridiculous in the way Seth and Becky obviously hadn’t thought this through. The all consuming laughter is enough to make Bayley stare, enough to remind her that happiness might be worth fighting for. 

“Cantaloupe, that’s a fruit.” Roman says to prove Becky wrong.

“Pumpkin?” Bayley inserts when she’s gathered enough brain power to think of things that aren’t blue hair and bronze skin.

“...Oranges” Seth offers around a mouth full of raw onion like he has any place adding his two cents. 

“My friends are idiots!” Charlotte cries out again, assuming her usual position on her self-asserted pedestal, covering her face with her hands in shame. 

Roman laughs, realizing that that’s not the worst of it, “No,  _ your soulmate’s  _ an idiot” 

Five heads snap up to Roman, looking confused that the usually intellectual boy had left room for such a mistake, as if Seth wasn’t his soulmate, certified idiot of the century, as if he wasn’t still chomping on raw onion as he spoke. Even Seth looks at him like he’s absolutely crazy to forget his idiocy.

“What?” Roman questions when no one explains the sudden change.

“I’m  _ the  _ idiot” Seth proclaims like its not an insult, just a category that he so obviously falls under. 

Roman purses his lips, trying to find a valid counter point before giving up after only a moment.

“True”

“The only people who can validly make fun of us are Sasha and Bayley” Seth continues, a passion of the moment. He hadn’t even used the word soulmate, but it still felt like an ambush. A push against all the things Sasha always detested.

But Bayley doesn’t let it catch the air that way, settles her brain against the thoughts of how crazy Becky and Seth can be, and how crazy Charlotte and Roman are for loving them unconditionally. And it would be crazy to ever question why: they were soulmates. It serves as proof that Bayley can’t leave Sasha’s side, can’t ever stop trying regardless of the crazy Sasha can prove herself to be.

There isn’t time to dwell now, not when Sasha looks startled by Seth’s words. She takes out her notebook and a pen ready to assert a new plan.

“We need to write out meal plans for you two if you plan on doing this any longer” Bayley reveals her motive, writing Seth’s and Becky’s names at the top of the paper to brainstorm possible food options.

“Yeah, before one of you dies from too much of one thing” Charlotte agrees, assuming her role as protective mother. 

“Hot cheetos” Becky all but shouts in glee like a sudden epiphany. Charlotte only looks at her in disappointment. 

Bayley writes dutifully as Roman, Charlotte, and Sasha list off possible food choices for their two lovable psychos. 

A space in time where things feel as normal as the air tends to get these days. Where it’s easy to forget the implications of words that weren’t phased carefully enough, where Sasha can enjoy the ease of being around the people she loves without feeling like it’s draining all of her energy. 

But all good things are temporary, she reminds herself as the bell rings, breaking up their circle of banter. She tries not to compare it to the way she knows Bayley is steadily giving up on her too.

But the most constant thing Sasha has ever known is Bayley’s unwillingness to give up on her, Bayley’s love, whether Sasha had ever accepted it or not. So the least she could do was try to be that same constancy for Bayley.

So walking Bayley to her next class happens without really thinking about it.

“You don’t have to walk with me.” Bayley clarifies, reminding Sasha that she doesn’t need her protection anymore, “Roman told everyone to fuck off”

And the effects were almost immediate, the usual amount of people ignoring her, or giving friendly smiles. The power of Roman’s status and charisma surprising her again.

“I know, I just wanted to” Sasha answers with a shrug, like her answer had revealed something Bayley had never known, the sparkle in her eyes reminding Bayley of the sincerity. 

Bayley sits in her room later that day, replaying Sasha’s words over and over, wondering when she’ll stop giving her so much power over her. But she knows there isn’t an end point, knows that the universe intended for them to crash and break and put each other back together again for as long as they both shall live.

And there’s too many highpoints to not be ashamed of her sadness. Because she’s always had Charlotte as her pillar, a sturdy home made of motherly love. She loves Becky just as much and knows the goofball loves her right back. Because Seth had her back from the very beginning before he even knew both sides of the story. And Roman had proved his loyalty and care once again.

Sasha would always be Sasha, too much for Bayley to know what to do with, too much to ever love her adequately. But something settled in Bayley’s brain just enough: just enough that loving Sasha from afar could be okay. That friendship didn’t have to be solemn.

For the first time in a long time Bayley feels safe in the chaos.

But the place where things fall apart is always Sasha’s lack of communication, because Sasha lies awake at night too, wondering how and when it will be enough and whose job it is to erase the remaining distance. Because for the first time, Sasha wants the things that come with genuine desire.

Sasha isn’t afraid of true love, isn’t afraid of the universe being right.

But she’s scared of how much it could hurt if she’s overstayed her welcome, how easily Bayley could completely ruin her by dealing her the same cruelty. 

So they’ll waste another moment. In fear. In complicit content. In trying to understand each other and failing for the millionth time. In favor of letting the tears dry up and the sun go down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have so many feelings rn...  
like i took so long to update and still like no progression,,,,well some progression but the fools are still fools  
This chapter is dedicated to my man @ahunter8056 cuz he was having a rough day and he deserves only the good things in this world....the comedy in this chapter is for you man (but also cuz im a crackhead)
> 
> pls yell at me in the comments if yall are still reading


	16. new plan

Bayley was probably the most patient of them all, something in the soft resolve of putting herself last on her list of priorities, it served her well in waiting for Sasha, but not in the woes where time felt fleeting and there was nothing pushing them closer. The law of the universe always taking hold and pushing them apart, only to bring them closer than before. Roman was probably a close second, the brush of understanding and empathy, the way he’d waited for Seth in every sense of breathing. Even Seth could hold his own in dire situations, where seriousness weighed more than the need to act out. Charlotte was used to validation, a motherly figure who would move worlds for the ones she loved, but there was something lacking in patience. Becky and her had fought over stupid things enough times to prove it. And Becky was notorious for tapping her foot, biting her lips, taking deep breaths in moments of stress: a strong contender for last place. Her nature always leaning toward chaos. But last place was saved for none other than everyone’s friendly neighborhood blue haired handful of angst: Sasha. 

Sasha didn’t wait for things: walked out of class before the teacher could finish writing the homework on the board, left movies as soon as end credits began to roll, ran and ran before Bayley could ever truly get her words out.

It’s something to work on, she knows. And it gets easier with time, because Bayley lets her pull away when hugs become too much, and Charlotte threatens to stop telling her their assigned homework. There isn’t pressure in learning, just five steady hands willing to help her back up everytime she falls. 

A distinct lesson comes in dealing with the on going bet between Seth and Becky as the tribulations of purple and orange food continues for weeks. Because here, all ideas of potential patience are thrown out the window, replaced with Seth’s intense focus and Becky’s flaw in never knowing when to give up.

Seth, Becky, and Sasha sit on a bench outside after school waiting for Roman, Charlotte, and Bayley to join them. The headache comes in sitting between the pair of crackheads as they snack on colorful snacks. 

“I get that you guys made this bet, but do you have to constantly be eating to remind us that it’s happening?” Sasha asks rubbing her temples as Becky stuffs her hand back into her box of cheez-its and Seth rips open his seventh purple pixie stick.

“Sorry, Lass, I gotta beat this poser” Becky slurs around a mouth full of half chewed food, gesturing toward Seth like he can’t hear them.

“HEY!” Seth protests, offended that Becky thinks she’d ever win, but the outburst comes out at the wrong time, enough to make him inhale the sugary powder making him choke. 

“I don’t get paid enough for this” Sasha rolls her eyes, patting Seth on the back until the harsh coughs stop, trying to will away the part of her that wants to whine some more, question why the hell their friends are taking so long, why the universe had given her two amazing friends who happened to be absolutely crazy. 

“What do you thinks taking them so long?” Becky asks in between crunches, shortly after Seth seems settled again. 

The words give Sasha reason to be impatient as if Becky’s question made her feelings rational. She pushes herself off the bench, Seth and Becky’s eyes following her movement in confusion as if they didn’t know how annoying they were being. 

“I’m gonna go see if I can find them” Sasha elects as her ploy to look for her other friends instead of simply texting them to get away from Seth and Becky even for just a moment. “I’m leaving my bookbag, don’t leave this spot” she adds, knowing the aloof irresponsibility that could come with the impulsive gemini and spontaneous aquarius, not wanting to find the others only to lose Seth and Becky.

“You got it boss” Seth salutes, but the attempt at humor only makes her sigh. She loves her friends, they’re just too much sometimes. 

Sasha walks away knowing it’s better than running, that baby steps are always welcome in the land of trying, Bayley had told her so time and time again that their was forgiveness found in any attempt, even if that attempt resulted in failure. 

She walks back into the school building hoping that her other friends haven’t lost it too. There’s a nagging feeling in her for a moment like she’s forgetting something, a practiced notion in always feeling like she’s in the wrong, out of place, misremembering, but it’s not as bold as her heart leads her to believe this time, because upon closer inspection to numb thoughts, there’s a far off memory of Charlotte telling her they were going to meet up in the gym after school, not outside.

There’s a bad thought that comes in the form of wanting to punish herself for misremembering, misinforming Seth and Becky, but it washes away with a deep breath, Bayley’s voice ringing in her head.

_ “We have to stop apologizing for being human” _

The words carry her to the school gym, where she finds Roman and Bayley sat closely on the fist of set of bleachers while Charlotte practices free throws casually, chatting patiently, seemingly in the same boat of waiting for their other 3 friends, except there was no loud chewing or irritated outbursts.

At the sight of them, she instantly feels better, like the gel of 6 only works when she has all of them to combat the intensity of some and not all. It launches her into a picturesque fantasy where they’re running through a field of sunflowers toward each other in slow motion. 

But the daydream seizes as she approaches, still out of sight, she can hear the conversation that flows easily.

“You don’t think she’s worth fighting for?” Roman asks, it seems casual enough, there aren’t hushed whispers or a cloak of protection, and Sasha would hate to assume that they’re talking about her, but the lack of context pushes only cruel thoughts forward. 

“I don’t really care anymore-” comes a careful answer from Bayley, a lack of any intense emotions, seemingly more focused on the way Charlotte dribbles up to the basket. 

Sasha’s feet move her before her brain can fully compute.

She’s out of the gym without a sound, running through the hallway toward the nearest exit.

“-the universe will bring us together eventually. I love her enough to wait as long as she needs. And in the meantime I have friendship” Bayley continues wistfully explaining her current state of mind, unaware of the sinking boat in Sasha’s psyche.

Sasha’s sneakers screech against tiled floor as she halts her running a few feet from the exit, not far from where she’d left Seth and Becky. Her breath coming out in harsh glides that make her throat burn, a pulse that tints her ears red.

She can see it so clearly, the image of her running passed Seth and Becky, and them inevitably chasing after her, purple pixie sticks falling in a trail out of Seth’s backpack. It seems easy, a route she’s taken many times, somewhere known. But it feels like a dream, a place she can’t go anymore now that she’s awake.

So she swallows her pride, remembers that turning back marks new territory, growth in being strong enough to face her fears. She walks the journey back to the gym, every step feeling lighter than the last. A jolt in wanting to be better than before, and actually finding the will to chase it. The promise of it fills her up, until she’s running full speed, back to what she’d just run away from.

She finds them stepping out of the gym: Charlotte reaching for her phone, Roman throwing his book bag over his shoulder, Bayley looking confused.

“Sash?” Bayley questions upon the girl’s sudden appearance, seemingly in a hurry to get to them. “We were just about to come looking for you”

“Sorry” Sasha offers between breaths, “I forgot you said the gym, and then I remembered-”

“Where are Thing 1 and Thing 2?” Charlotte asks.

“Outside” Sasha swallows, her mounting positive energy somehow vacant again, she feels the dull ache of it somewhere in the pit of her stomach, and tries to savor the last bit of it. 

She finds Bayley’s eyes, hoping to find some promise, that Sasha had read it wrong, that they weren’t talking about her, that Bayley would never give up on them. But she’s given the usual adoring stare that has been there since they met, and it’s enough. It has to be enough. 

Sasha reaches for Bayley’s hand as they walk back toward where she’d left Seth and Becky, a moment she would normally label as weak, but decides to call it strength, in the way she brings herself closer to the person she loves, knowing that there is only strength in finding the right avenues in being herself.

And Bayley holds on tight to the offered fingers, pulling Sasha close enough for their shoulders to brush as Bayley ducks down to whisper for only her soulmate to hear.

“You okay?” She questions and Sasha hopes it’s at the way she’d been running, at the clarity in finding Bayley’s eyes, and not Bayley’s concern that Sasha wants to hold her hand enough to actually do it.

Sasha smiles just enough for it to show, just enough to stop a chance at further questions, Bayley only squeezes her hand tighter.

They find Seth and Becky on the bench Sasha had left them, but the blue haired girl is quick to notice the lack of snacks that they’d had before. Seth eyes her like he’s trying to clue her in, but she’s not sure what message he’s trying to get across. The idiot energy doesn’t fit effortlessly into her brain the same way it does between he and Becky. 

Becky stages a different tactic in playing it cool, always the less idiotic of the two, only plans back fire when she pushes up off the bench into Charlotte’s arms planting a short kiss onto her soulmate’s lips. 

The issue arises when Charlotte’s face scrunches in disgust (usually the last likely reaction after kissing Becky), licking her lips to confirm the stark taste.

“Why do you taste like Cheez-its?” Charlotte questions, trying not to jump to conclusions. 

The rest of the group watches on, waiting for more details in whatever predicament is unfolding. Roman eyes Seth closely, slowly catching on to the lie he’s been told.

“No reason” Becky mutters ashamed, shifting back further into the bench, but the movement produces a specific sound: something of plastic and paper crinkling.

Charlotte pulls her forward, just urgently enough to access Becky’s backpack without enough time for her to run, pulls open the zipper while holding Becky hostage.

She pulls out the half empty box of cheez-its, two oranges, and a bag of just orange lollipops in an energized tyraid, tossing them onto the floor beside them as if each item was a fresh piece of incriminating evidence. 

Seth laughs heartily in response to the incredulous look on Charlotte’s face and the way Becky cowers in fear. But the moment of cruel joy in Becky’s pain only makes room for things to go even more awry.

“Seth’s tongue is purple!” Becky points up quickly towards Seth, a wild accusation in throwing him under the bus, hoping it’s enough to get her out of the hot seat for the time being.

But there isn’t a moment for Becky to let out her breath, because Seth is shutting his mouth abruptly as if wholly betrayed and Charlotte is putting her hands on her hips ready for confrontation.

“So this morning when you two told Roman and I that you decided to end the bet, that was a lie?” Charlotte questions angrily, pointing accusingly between the two criminals. 

“You really believed them?” Sasha voices before any sheepish confessions find the air. 

Roman only purses his lips in full contemplation, “Sasha’s right, maybe  _ we  _ are the dumb ones” 

Charlotte rolls her eyes, wondering how Seth and Becky had turned the tables so easily. 

“No,  _ they’re the dumb ones” _ Charlotte promises gesturing wildly.

“Dumb enough to do it in front of me, too” Sasha interjects again playing with Bayley’s fingers absentmindedly as the brunette watches on. 

“Sorry” Becky shrugs, not really meaning it, but wanting to change the conversation. 

“Were worried about you two” Roman interjects, “this isn’t about killing your fun” he adds pushing Seth’s blond strand out of his face, but the touch doesn’t stop him from sulking like a child.

“New plan.” Bayley finally speaks up, gaining all of her friends attention easily, “We go to Butterfly Cafe, get a slice of red velvet cake, you both take a bite at the same time, you both win and we all stop worrying about one of you needing your stomach pumped”

There’s little protest from anyone, but Seth. Charlotte leads a grumpy, but cooperating Becky to her car, Sasha and Bayley hoping in the back before Becky can make a run for it. 

Roman all but drags Seth toward his car, his soulmate pulling him to the ground in protest like a child who wanted a toy he couldn’t have, until Roman is done playing around. He hoists Seth over his shoulder, prompting a feminine yelp out of Seth, before lugging him to his vehicle. 

They reach Butterfly Cafe a few minutes later, Becky begrudgingly leading the charge inside, as Seth still has to be pulled along. 

Charlotte and Roman sit their respective soulmates down at the closest available table as Bayley and Sasha go up to order for them: the usual coffee orders  _ and a single slice of red velvet cake. _

Becky participates freely taking the offered fork from Bayley’s hand as they return with the slice of cake and their drinks. But the other fork is given to Roman, knowing full well that the end will have to be forced.

“On the count of three” Charlotte directs them when both forks have been filled with a bite of the dessert. Becky seemingly ready to end it, Seth being forced, but knowing he’ll have to give in.

“One.

Two.

Three.”

Becky forces eye contact with Seth, making a show of moving the cake closer to her mouth, but just as Roman pushes the fork against Seth’s tongue, Becky’s hand retreats.

“Hey!” Seth calls out, mouth full of red cake, “You cheated!”

“Nope” Becky claims happily, before finally indulging in the treat of something not orange, “I won fair and square”

Charlotte smiles again, caught between being glad this dumb bet is over (until the next one comes a long of course) and the fact that Becky was smart enough to pull this out. 

Sasha high-fives Becky, solidifying the win as she and Bayley join in on the laughter. Roman laughs too, more at the way Seth still looks cute when he’s sulking.

It’s a clear moment for Sasha, as she takes Bayley’s hand again, this time under the table, a reminder that time is always moving and the future is unknown. It makes her almost ill, that she’d taken so much time for granted, but the press of Bayley’s hand, the sound of her friends’ unfiltered joy is enough to keep her head from spinning. 

And she knows then that waiting isn’t an option anymore, because regardless of what Bayley wants, Sasha finally knows. 

Knows that regardless of the color that paints her world, Bayley is everything she’s always wanted, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t fight for it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thx for the encouragement from the SQUAD! yall know who you are!
> 
> idk fam Sasha making progress? yall never woulda thought
> 
> anyway its been like more than 20 days since i updated but i lowkey missed these fools....tryna get back into the angst but i feel like were actually making room for sunshine
> 
> also: Charlotte is shooting hoops cuz i think my subconscious is still mourning kobe bryant  
TMI but i get really sentimental about death, even if i didnt personally know him: thats still a person the world doesnt have anymore  
i hope it reminds yall how precious life is, how worthy YOU are because we have this one time, this one chance, pls breathe through it and know ur here for a reason
> 
> I always say i write for people to relate, for people to escape life for a minute and i truly hope you all know i appreciate all of you sooo sorry for getting sappy but RATHER be emo for a second than you not know
> 
> dueces


	17. so close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are gonna hate me for this...

Sasha had nightmares often, the kind that throw her for a loop, force her to puzzle out the dark paths of her inner psyche, find roots to bring her back home in the sharp deep breaths she choked out in the new moments of waking, where the sky filled clear, the colors in her room showed vibrant and everything went back to normal. Dreams where Bayley was hit by a car or Becky moved back to Ireland or Charlotte lost her color, it always felt crazy, a jolt back to real life, where the feeling of her bed was more grounding than any level of despair.

But this time was different, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she tries to remember exactly what her sleep had concocted, exactly what the universe had painted in her nightmare, but her eyes open just the same, a bugged out expression as the burning sets in deep, as her heart aches.

Her hands jolt up to her face, rubbing at the intense pain in her eyes, a blinding sensation as tears try to make up for the stark dryness.

She blinks harshly, trying to push away all instances of pain but every snap shot of daylight she sees is another reason to cry.

No color.

As she peels open raw eyelids, the  <strike> green </strike> of her bedroom walls is absent, replaced by a delicate gray she remembers from childhood. 

It’s scary, scarier than any nightmare. She feels blind, like a gunshot to the face took away the one sense she’d relied on most. And it’s hard to accept it as fate, even if she can’t rip open her brain, re wire all the tangles that brought her here. So she does the next best thing, rubs at her eyes over and over, hoping she’s just tired or not thinking straight or that the universe had made a mistake.

But it feels too real, a press of cold sweat in her bed that forces her up and around.

The carpet is gray, her sheets, gray, everything gray.

There isn’t much room for nuance in the panic, just a place for melting down and pushing away.

She can’t stay here, too suffocated by a past she no longer yearns to go back to.

_ Why? Why her? _ She questions in her head, looking for answers from any higher power.

A punishment for the way she’d always acted like the color didn’t belong to her, just her luck that as soon as she started to accept the love, find a home in letting go of worry, the world would take it all away, go back on the promise of forever.

There’s a heated rush in putting on her  <strike> blue </strike> sneakers.

Shoving her <strike> rose gold  </strike> phone in her pocket.

And walking out the front door.

There’s a ringing in her ears as feet hit concrete, a press of Bayley’s voice that gets more distorted as time passes. 

A cry of

_ Why couldn’t you just love me _

_ Why did you push me away _

_ Why Sasha _

_ Why  _

It feels like lightning in her eyes, thunder in her ears.

The sky shows white, a reminder that Charlotte’s eyes will no longer show their full intended  <strike> cerulean </strike> beauty. Sasha doesn’t want to think about living without the  <strike> orange </strike> of Becky’s hair, the delicate contrast in Roman’s and Seth’s skin.

The subtle way Bayley’s  <strike> chestnut </strike> eyes change when she’s looking at just Sasha. The  <strike> amber  </strike> sunset. The  <strike> pink </strike> of her lips, the  <strike> chocolate </strike> strands of hair. The  <strike> mint </strike> colored coffee cups at Butterfly cafe. Bayley’s  <strike> yellow </strike> nail polish. 

It’s dizzying, an overwhelming sensation that prompts a surged insistence of fight or flight, and Sasha has always been better at the latter.

So she runs, trying to escape,  _ like always, _ but this time she’s running toward something,  _ someone. _

A hope that seeing Bayley,  _ touching  _ Bayley will trigger it all again, that her soulmate could fix it.

Bayley could always fix it.

The sound of her shoes beating against the pavement pushes against her ears, filling her up with the adrenaline she’s been brimming with since waking. It was enough to keep her in motion long after her lungs ached for a break, her muscles yearned for oxygen. 

She looked for signs anywhere and everywhere as her feet took her on her journey to Bayley’s house. Checking the  <strike> green </strike> grass. Looking for  <strike> scarlet </strike> bricks and painted doors. The cement had always been gray, but now it just felt numb, a pavement of rock made specifically to remind her what forever felt like.

Sasha couldn’t knock on Bayley’s door, there wasn’t time or the energy to wait. Instead she finds Bayley’s window hoping she’d still left it unlocked for her after all this time, still hoped Bayley waited for her each night to crawl through and tell her everything would be okay.

And there’s a small catching of breath, a bit of ease reaching bones as the window slides up easily without protest, but the panic settles in again when Sasha climbs into the room.

Because everything is still overwhelmingly colorless: Bayley’s  <strike> mahogany </strike> bookshelf,  <strike> cobalt </strike> carpet, a poster of Hayley Williams with  <strike> orange </strike> and  <strike> blue </strike> hair,  <strike> red </strike> pillow covers, a  <strike> rainbow </strike> flag. 

And Bayley is nowhere to be found.

She shouldn’t panic.

Bayley’s probably out with her parents, or studying with Roman, or running errands, or anywhere else and it’s fine, it’s all fine.

But she’s not here when Sasha needs her, when everything feels like it’s falling apart.

Sasha tries calling her, a last hope in hearing her voice, a reach for much needed connection as little as it may be. 

But it rings too long, a space in time where Sasha’s hopes find their demise as the call goes to voicemail. The tone beeps but she doesn’t say anything.

The phone slips out of her hand, crashing onto the floor as silence fills Bayley’s voicemail box. No more strength to hold on, only a slot in her brain that finally starts to accept this new fate, that she was stupid enough to waste it, so keen on being alone, that she’d changed her own destiny.

Only now: all she wants is Bayley. For Bayley to be the one. For color to surround her as Bayley kisses her like she knows it’s the only home she’ll ever need. 

But there isn’t room for that fairytale anymore.

Sasha’s body follows the momentum of her phone, her knees finding the floor as her strength can’t continue. The adrenaline wears off, the energy no longer coursing through her as the pain in her heart matches the exhaustion of her feet, the numb of her fingers. 

Her mind can’t compute, too in shock to reach the final stage of grief, too incapacitated to formulate a logical thought or course of action. Instead, her brain finds the most innate form of coping, pushing her to the floor and into the fetal position, the first line of defense in protecting her vital organs, protecting her heart, as tears fall unconsciously in a river of despair. 

Bayley’s voice calls out in her head, a pity as much as an understatement of sorrow,

_ We were so close _

_ Sasha _

_ We were so close _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ myself: pls say sike
> 
> ANYWAYYYY im sorry for this,,,but also not sorry enough to not write it...  
just trust me okay???? i wouldnt leave you on a sad ending, cuz the fic still says !7/? sooooo this aint the ending  
THERE WILL BE REDEMPTION  
i know i stay dragging everything....but all will be okay
> 
> patience my children...


	18. it was just a dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> redemption? so soon?

Her mind can’t compute, too in shock to reach the final stage of grief, too incapacitated to formulate a logical thought or course of action. Instead, her brain finds the most innate form of coping, pushing her to the floor and into the fetal position, the first line of defense in protecting her vital organs, protecting her heart, as tears fall unconsciously in a river of despair. 

Bayley’s voice calls out in her head, a pity as much as an understatement of sorrow,

_ We were so close _

_ Sasha _

_ We were so close _

There’s clarity suddenly, a will in her heart that forces her to stop crying.

And open her eyes.

Sasha finds blinding sunshine, feels a familiar softness around her that isn’t Bayley’s floor.

Sasha's bed. Like she’d never run in the first place.

Because she hadn’t. 

She rubs her eyes again. This time there isn’t a desperate push to her fingers. And when she opens them: _ color _ .

The  _ green  _ walls and  _ purple  _ blankets. Her sneakers are  _ blue  _ again.

_ They’ve always been blue.  _ She has to remind herself.

A dream. It was just a dream. 

It felt so real, the ringing in her ears still very much present. The pain of it still wrenching her heart, the phantom tears on her face.

Her brain knows it wasn’t real now. But it doesn’t stop the bursting pattern of her heart pushing against her rib cage. 

_ Bayley.  _

Sasha remembers.

And there’s a voice in her head again, but this time it’s her own. A proud exhale of 

_ It’s time to stop fighting.  _

It feels like a rain to cleanse the polluted air. A much needed shower. 

It’s dizzying, an overwhelming sensation that prompts a surged insistence of fight or flight, and Sasha has always been better at the latter.

So she runs, trying to find the person that makes her the best version of herself. 

The sound of her shoes beating against the pavement pushes against her ears, filling her up with the adrenaline she’s been brimming with since waking. It was enough to keep her in motion long after her lungs ached for a break, her muscles yearned for oxygen. 

She takes in as much as possible: the morning glow of  _ aqua _ mixing with  _ yellow ochre,  _ the  _ emerald  _ of grass, the small instances of irregularity in  _ silver  _ cement, the  _ scarlet  _ of bricks.

She remembers  _ cerulean  _ pools in Charlotte’s eyes, the nuanced  _ blonde  _ of her hair, Becky’s  _ golden  _ irises, the muted  _ orange  _ of her hair. She can clearly see the  _ brassy  _ tone the strand of Seth’s hair takes on while waiting for bleach to develop, the  _ steel _ glint in Roman’s eyes.

Sasha closes her eyes, committing to memory everything  _ Bayley. Brown  _ hair,  _ brown  _ eyes, a surging compliment to  _ tanned  _ skin, paler hands,  _ yellow  _ fingernails,  _ pink  _ lips,  _ black  _ eyelashes.

It doesn’t feel like enough. 

She has to see her.

Sasha couldn’t knock on Bayley’s door, there wasn’t time or the energy to wait. Instead she finds Bayley’s window hoping she’d still left it unlocked for her after all this time, still hoped Bayley waited for her each night to crawl through and tell her everything would be okay.

And there’s a small catching of breath, a bit of ease reaching bones as the window slides up easily without protest, and a force of relief settles into her lungs when Sasha climbs into the room.

Because everything is still overwhelmingly  _ colorful _ : Bayley’s  _ mahogany  _ bookshelf,  _ cobalt  _ carpet, a poster of Hayley Williams with  _ orange  _ and  _ blue  _ hair,  _ red  _ pillow covers, a  _ rainbow  _ flag. 

And Bayley is there, tucked under her blankets, still sound asleep.

The sight grounds Sasha to her spot, suddenly motionless at being exactly where she needs to be. 

Because Bayley is here, and Sasha can see color.

And she doesn’t need anything else.

“Sasha?” Bayley questions, her eyelids opening half way only to close again at the blinding sight, of Sasha or the sunshine, she isn’t sure. 

“Shhhh, go back to sleep” the blue haired girl tries at using her voice for the first time today, the words coming out like she hadn’t spoken in months.

“C’mere” Bayley mumbles, pulling back the covers in an offer for Sasha to join her.

There isn’t hesitation in the way Sasha kicks off her sneakers and settles herself into bed.

Bayley’s warmth immediately takes her over, melting them together until they are one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do yall still hate me? understandable if yes


	19. there was always someone to bring back the color

Sleep comes easy in the warmth that radiates from Bayley to Sasha and back again, a fluid cycle in the way energy is pushed and pulled with every new breath, a cemented exhale that triggers the next inhale and promises prolonged life in its wake.

And nightmares aren’t welcome here: only rose buds and sunflower seeds, running water that leads to a waterfall, a cascade of highs and lows that are necessary for life to continue.

Sasha only dreams of strength, her own and the one they can create together, an ever-lasting play at trying to be better. A place Sasha knows she’ll be able to cherish, she hopes something she can look back on with no regret.

Just a delicate smile on her face, tear stains coated in memories of the obstacles she’d put in her own way, but Bayley did well in teaching her that mistakes were to be forgiven.

Forgiven in the capacity of forgiving herself, but also understanding the mindset, remembering the lesson, internalizing the gift of her lapse in judgement. Because Sasha knows there are too many things to count, too many cries that could have been laughter, a mountain of instances of pushing people away when she needed them most, a sorrowful pile of woe.

But she knows better than anyone that failure only pushes forward, until she’s failing a little less everyday and she finally gets the roots to spring through the dirt to hold her in place as she moves up through the soil. The roots are Bayley’s arms, the needed sunlight is her heart.

Sasha will be her own water, a testament to starting the change within herself, wanting happiness no matter how deceitful and lovely darkness could be. She was choosing UV rays over cloud protection, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that it would be hard, but the skin damage would be worth it if it meant getting Bayley.

There’s a dream in the place of a nightmare, something of clear air and dense flowers. It’s more an aura than a picture, nothing startling, not enough weight to force anyone upright or out of bed.

What comes in the form of waking is the feeling of Bayley’s hands moving against Sasha’s back, a soothing pattern that strokes from her hip up her spine, it wakes her and quiets her at the same time.

“Hey” Bayley whispers against the shell of Sasha’s ear, as her soulmate’s face remains pressed into the side of her neck, but Bayley can feel the delicate movement of eyelashes, the change in breathing.

The first thought Sasha can put into words is that she feels safe in the cocoon of limbs and blankets they’ve created. The second is her inability to recognize exactly which arms and legs belonged to her, consumed by the crossing and articulation, the warmth of tired bodies melting them together.

But the heat is not overwhelming. It reads like a caring fever, one that keeps her high enough to see only silver linings, keeps her in bed for the love, caresses her cheeks with cold hands to remind her she isn’t dreaming.

“You can go back to sleep if you want” Bayley adds when Sasha is silent, suddenly afraid she’d broken the spell or made Sasha uncomfortable. Afraid again that any wrong move could make Sasha run.

But there feels to be an impenetrable bubble that glues them together, a binding that erases the fear, and replaces it with hope when the undeniable weight of Sasha’s body doesn’t go away.

Sasha pulls back, a moment where Bayley’s heart skips, the devil on her shoulder getting ready to say “i told you so” but the bed doesn’t dip.

There is no shameful look that pushes Sasha out of arm’s reach, there isn’t a pull for more room. Sasha doesn’t push away in a rushed fluffy of looking where she’d kicked off her shoes and bursting out the window.

There are just soft brown eyes meeting Bayley’s. Still half shut, they still hold all the gold Bayley has always been looking for.

“Someone’s sleepy” Bayley tries again, hoping the words prompt some sort of communication. Bayley doesn’t really need a good reason to want to keep Sasha here, but an explanation would be nice too.

Sasha seemed ready, but Bayley needed to hear it.

But a verbal answer doesn’t come. Instead Sasha’s lips tighten around a tired grin, the corners of her mouth coming up just enough for Bayley to soak it in, as her eyelids droop into soft blinks meant to rid her of exhaustion.

She wasn’t sure if it had been the nightmare, the running, or something else, that had made her so exhausted, but Sasha liked to believe it was Bayley, the first breath of finally that the universe could take even if the joining of two souls wasn’t exactly complete.

Sasha’s arms come from around Bayley’s neck when she starts to gain recognizance of her limbs, a need for continued touch in new discovery. Her hand coming up to stroke Bayley’s cheek in a way she hadn’t before. A touch of desire as much as it was gratitude.

There’s too much to say, too much that can’t go unsaid. Sasha knows it’s time. The lock on her heart, old and ready to wither away. One more heart beat to get rid of it for good.

Sasha’s fingers glide along Bayley’s face until her thumb rubs over her bottom lip, a practiced back and forth, trying to memorize the soft peak against her finger print. There’s a gasp at the contact, but Sasha isn’t sure who the release comes from. She takes the silence as her opening.

“I’m sorry” Sasha starts, but the call for her to stop comes right as the words leave her mouth.

“Sash. You don’t have to-“

“I know you said no more apologizing,” Sasha forces again, searching Bayley’s eyes for any signs that she’s not following her, “but I fucked up, a lot. And you didn’t deserve that, so I’m gonna say I’m sorry and then we never have to talk about it again if you don’t want to”

The brunette nods her understanding, willing to give Sasha the room to stop thinking Bayley blames her for all of this, the room to stop blaming herself.

“I’m sorry for lying about you being my soulmate, and making you feel like you had to lie too, I’m sorry for never trusting it, for always running away.” 

Sasha thought she’d cry, thought the tears would come in rivers, but there’s something too steady about being in Bayley’s arms to let her fall apart. There isn’t grief in letting go of the person she was before, because colors keep her moving forward, where there’s just enough of the past to be better, but never enough to make her steps feel heavy.

“Okay” Bayley offers like it ends all the sullied memories, places a comforting veil over all the missteps.

“Okay?” Sasha asks, the little worry left in her leaving at the calm in Bayley’s face.

“Apology accepted” 

And for a second Sasha thinks she’s ruined it again, put them back at square one, where nothing is settled, nothing moving in the right direction. Where friendship remains the queen and love is forever an afterthought, a state of mind they’re always doomed to be in. 

But then she realizes, she has the power.

She’s always had the power. 

To bridge the gap.

To end the game of back and forth.

To swap out the dirt, with fresh soil and germinating seeds.

So she kisses her.

Sasha surges forward, and it’s only a few inches, but it feels like being thrown 180 degrees into a new direction, like finding where the tension holds while picking a lock, like hitting the point of pressure that makes all the pain in her muscles dissipate.

And it’s more fulfilling than the first time, like finally getting her headphones completely unknotted, the same rush as running but better, because the concrete holds her still, keeps her quiet against Bayley’s mouth. 

And it hurts to pull away, but she needs to see Bayley’s eyes, needs to know that this is real. Bayley’s tears are barely making their way down her cheeks, but the pain of it travels from her cheeks into Sasha’s heart. It forces a lapse of understanding where Sasha understands the pain that must dissipate in order for it to be replaced with happiness.

Suddenly, tears aren’t meant for sadness, but the responsibility to shed away stress, to re-wet canvas with new paint. Mark up the existing beauty with new colors until the painting matches the way Sasha’s skin tingles when Bayley touches her, reminds Bayley of the glow in Sasha’s heart, shines too many colors to name, proves that the universe knew at the precipice of time that their energy belonged together. 

Because all isn’t fixed by love, but Sasha has always known that. But it sure as hell helps. The support of Bayley’s arms, the warmth of tangled limbs, the feel of safety against her skin. 

And Sasha knows now that nothing could ruin it. Not her hatred for being told what to do. Or her need to rebel. Bayley couldn’t change it even if she never had the guts to force Sasha into anything. Lying about the truth. Misunderstandings. Nightmares. 

Nothing could change what they had. And at first Sasha couldn’t believe that, because nothing lasts forever, even if the thought of Bayley dying makes her heart clench, but she could make her peace with holding onto the good things.

_ There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be happy. _

She’d have to remind herself everyday. 

But the failed attempts were worth it to find something as permanent as the universe would allow. 

Because the future isn’t certain. It never has been. It never will be.

But Sasha has grown tired of the waiting and the wondering about what if and when. 

So she’ll focus on the now. 

Where she’s in love with the only person who ever really knew all of her, whose supported her every step of the way, whose willing to grow and stretch for the sake of finding home. 

Where brown eyes, brown hair, is the most important color. Where the thought of the sky never being blue again is a means for losing all sense of sanity. Where color means more than she’d ever given the time to contemplate.

Where links exist in the same way they began: tentative and calculated, but enough force to push them somewhere. Because Sasha never existed to fill a hole in Bayley’s heart, nor the other way around. But the extreme comfort in having an  _ always. Having somewhere to go when all else has turned it’s back, grown tired, seen too much darkness. _

_ There is always someone to bring back the color. _

  
_ Blue stings  _ like the rub of freshly opened eyes, like a needle prick to administer the antidote. Like a slap to wake her from the nightmare, make her see that color was still there, that  _ Bayley was still there.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep sigh
> 
> Theres so many feels....one chapter left for the epilogue so look out for that in a few days
> 
> as well as me being extra sappy and thanking everyone...
> 
> but yeah these idiots are finally together, thx for being patient 
> 
> SEE YOU REALLY SOON


	20. epilogue: viridian vows

Sasha sits in Butterfly Cafe alone. No color. She tries to remind herself of full capacity, where things are full of so much more than a gradient of black and white, values that don’t shade the sparks behind her eyelids. Because she can see it, the dull layers in Bayley’s eyes, the layered grays of Becky’s hair, the plain white shine of the “closed” sign blinking by the door. 

She hears voices, Charlotte yelling at Seth for trying to light the candles before they’ve even brought it out. It brings a delicate smile to Sasha’s features, the reminder that nothings really changed. 

Only growth in necessary places. 

And she knows darkness isn’t forever, not when there’s too much to look for in the delicate differences between orange and tangerine, the harrowing hints of lemon and lime. 

Because black and white is only reality in times like now, when she’s sitting alone, trying to remember what it was like before Bayley had touched her, before she knew blue, understood what it was to be loved by someone. Trying to write her book, piece together what it is that changed her mind about love. About Bayley. 

When her eyes are closed and she waits long enough to forget the magic of it. 

But opening her eyes is so much more fulfilling, to find the tan table and her open laptop, pages full of writing, a journal filled with notes for future chapters, the closed sign flickers red, a passionate scarlet. 

And she hears them. 

Charlotte’s scolding voice. 

Roman playing peacemaker. 

Becky’s laughter.

Seth defending himself. 

From the kitchen of the Butterfly Cafe. 

Sasha wonders where Bayley is, not making a scene about whatever Seth has done this time. But the dirty ivory of the kitchen door swings open just as the pondering begins. 

And there she is, always breathtaking in the moments where Sasha isn’t expecting it, the glow of barely tanned skin, free flowing almost black hair, those eyes. Because sight had never been so important, had never weighed so much until recently, until the true weight of love had come in with the fact that they’d been together 10 years, that a lifetime didn’t feel so long anymore. 

“Hey, baby” Bayley whispers, coming close enough to rest her hand on the side of Sasha’s neck, pull her in to place a kiss on her forehead.

“Hi” Sasha returns back, even though they’d seen each other 30 min ago when they’d all arrived for their impromptu celebration, wrapping her arms around Bayley’s rib cage, not allowing her to force any distance between them. 

“How’s writing going?” 

“I don’t know,” Sasha starts, trying to find brown eyes from their unbalanced position, “remembering the dull is hard, when everything is so much better in color”. 

Bayley smiles at that, always reassured by the way Sasha talks about a world filled with love, always awed that it’s because of her. 

It’s then that Roman walks out with the cake, candles stuck in but not lit yet, one candle already looking half melted from Seth’s earlier attempt at starting early. 

Sasha’s just glad it’s Roman carrying the cake, leaves room for Becky and Seth to bicker and Charlotte to settle them down. 

Because in times like this, Sasha remembers where they come from and where it's brought them, because laugh lines settle deep, Roman and Seth grow facial hair, Sasha lets her dark roots show, but they still remain together, a steady patience in finding home in each other over and over regardless of college and changing jobs and moving out of childhood homes. When tears come there is always friendship, there is always color.

Charlotte is still trying to keep them all together, acting more adult than they ever would without her. A lawyer now, doing her best to start her own firm. Sasha always crediting herself for reading flashcards with Charlotte in the dark when she was getting her degree. Her fullest duty eeping Becky smiling and getting out of bed everyday.

Becky is the new owner of Butterfly Cafe, hence the celebration. Soon after high school, she’d started as a waitress, foregoing college, (as much as Charlotte tried to convince her it was a necessity), and 10 years later the owner handed over the keys to his most trusted employee. The harsh glow of flaming orange had dulled out to something more natural but the push of fire was still behind her eyes.

Seth, much to everyone’s surprise, became a motivational speaker. He spoke at their highschool sometimes, had a booming YouTube channel, held rallies at town hall, and sometimes just spoke nonsense to kids in the park. The encouragement he gave Sasha throughout her struggle with her soulmate made him feel necessary, like he could help people, who needed advice, someone to tell them they were worth it. So he took it and ran with it. 

Roman is a physical education teacher, still the same big guy with a smile (just with more muscles). Always willing to go the extra mile to make kid’s days, make physical activity enjoyable, lift people up with his support.

Bayley fulfilled her intentions to study Soulmates, trying to understand what it is that brings color, why the world selects one person for each of us, if the phenomenon occurs outside of just humans. Sasha remembers the look on Bayley’s face when she said she’d willingly be a subject in Bayley’s studies, curious too how the universe had known her perfect match before she did.

And Sasha sits, writing her second book, about a ragtag group of teenagers dealing with soulmates and growing up,  _ not at all based on her and her friends,  _ finding purpose in each breath she takes alongside the person she loves, the friendships she wouldn’t give up for anything.

And it feels right in the moments like this, when theyre all together, close enough to remember all the bike rides, and Becky’s and Seth’s stupid bets, and fighting like siblings, swapping around Bayley’s paramore hoodie enough times that it was successfully deemed owned by all of them, dying Sasha’s hair over and over, putting make up on Roman, coffee and milkshakes at the cafe, stealing Charlotte’s math notes, helping Charlotte and Bayley with their degrees, watching them gush about the things they love, even if no one else really understands, watching each other fall more in love with their soulmates everyday, moving in on the same block, that time Becky threatened to shave her head if Charlotte didn’t forgive her for eating the last skittle, the time Seth fell down the stairs and sprained his ankle, the time Bayley chopped her hair off and Sasha called her “Daddy” exclusively for 6 months, the time Becky almost killed them by feeding them raw chicken.

It all came together in a flash of what they’ve been through, now knowing exactly how to solve every problem, how to wipe away every tear, feed joy into each other’s bones. Because family was built between them seamlessly, a factor of knowing the ins and outs of each other’s dreams and insecurities, and everyone’s favorite color.

Because red bleeds love into each new morning, where Charlotte finds Becky’s hair in her mouth, rubbing the brightness from her eyes. Where irises shine cerulean in every moment that Becky looks upon home.

Because Roman wraps his hands around hairy knuckles, fingernails coated in black nail polish, eyelashes that show brown in the sun. Seth knows tan skin, and dark stubble, charcoal hair to run his hands through.

Because Bayley braids blue locks when Sasha tires of getting it in her face, places kisses on taupe eyelids, never surprised by the way Sasha’s makeup somehow ends up on both of them.

Sasha never strays from leaving blotchy red lipstick kisses on Bayley’s cheek and neck, finds solace in the chipped yellow on Bayley’s fingernails, the way her eyes always shine no matter the lighting.

“Should we sing Happy Birthday?” Seth asks, now that Bayley and Sasha have been joined by the rest of the group, as well as the cake.

Becky’s face scrunches up instantly, “For what?”

Sasha giggles into Bayley’s shoulder at the hostility, knowing better than anyone it’s Becky’s favorite way to show love.

“Easy, Tiger,” Charlotte intervenes, “Seth’s right, it’s like a birthday, the first day the Cafe is yours”

“ _ Ours”  _ Becky is quick to correct, holding eye contact with Sasha long enough for her to feel the earnesty.

“ _ Your name  _ is on the paperwork, Mrs. Lynch” Bayley reminds her, as if to remove herself from any responsibilities Becky might be trying to push on them.

“Alright, ladies”, Roman stands closest to the cake, lighter held in his hand, “As entertaining as it is to listen to you bicker, I'd like to eat the cake at some point.” 

“And that’s why he’s my favorite” Seth chimes happily, pushing against Sasha to make sure she hears.

“Okay, okay, light the damn candles!” Becky orders less than gracefully.

“Happy birthday or no happy birthday? That is the question.” Seth sing-songs between Roman and Sasha as Charlotte runs to shut the lights.

“Fine” Becky grumbles, Bayley coming to rub her shoulder in support. 

Seth clears his throat, ready to conduct for the chorus to sing.

And they do, a wild chorus of too high and too low, a purposeful push on all things obnoxious, Seth hitting each phrase with unnecessary riffs, Bayley adding off beat claps, Roman’s call of “CHA CHA CHA”, Charlotte shaking her head in disappointment, but the smile on her face stays, Sasha watching wistfully, trying to hold back booming laughter. Becky covering her face, trying to remove any doubt that she absolutely hates every second of their torture.

It feels like home. A careful nook in the corner of a worn bookcase, where novels sit that make her heart leap like Bayley. An earthquake that reminds of beating hearts. The swell of blue and yellow candles aflame reflected against the bright of eyes too sure of the moment. 

Because as much writer’s block fights back, Sasha knows how the story ends, knows the comfort of purple icing and pink sprinkles, can feel the crimson heat on her cheeks when Becky blows out the candles. Knows how bliss comes in waves, a transformation of love and color, that blends together behind her eyes.

Because Bayley is here.

A promise in the sturdy hand settled against Sasha’s back, the safety in relaxed knuckles and certain breaths, a place where running is something of the past.

With each page flipping closer to an end. 

Sasha knows there is also a new beginning.

She could feel it. The air changing the first time she’d seen the dull gray of Bayley’s eyes, and again the first time she’d touched Bayley’s skin, and even still the violent green struck her eyes when she’d closed them to kiss her, and once more when she’d sealed their fate in Bayley’s bed, made them both sure of no more waiting and wishing for more.

And even now the darkness glows emerald, a sapling ready to find raging soil, anticipating a bud shaking in its need to bloom.

Because love means color, and a place filled with scarlet kisses and cerulean dreams, seems like a place that could know no doom.

  
  


Charlotte turns the lights back on.

The cloud of space where Sasha could remember darkness suddenly gone.

A reminder of gravity and its ability to pull her down.

“You okay?” Bayley swoops in before the insecurity can, holding her from behind, a lock of arms secure enough to support her weigh.

Sasha breathes but doesn’t answer, a canyon of flaws that don’t chip away any more.

Blue doesn’t sting so much for Bayley any more

Not when it holds the tranquility so gracefully, not when every chance at blue reminds her of love.

Sasha turns around in Bayley’s arms to face her, content in the solidity.

“I love you” Sasha whispers, her eyes feeling the need to shut, a call to rest her eyes, press her forehead into Bayley’s waiting lips.

Seth pouts at the show of affection, still so affected by their journey all these years later, throwing his arms to get the rest of the group’s attention.

“Awe” Charlotte calls when she notices the close embrace.

“Ay, get a room!” Becky jokes.

Sasha breaks away slightly to flip Becky off.

Seth quick to come to their defense with a statement of “Just because you and Charlie have been together since the dark ages, and your sex life is getting boring, doesn’t mean you gotta take it out on Bay and Blue” that pours out reflexively while he flails a fork toward Becky’s face.

Becky all, but jumps across the table to rip Seth’s face off, a timely screech coming out of his mouth (even though Becky has yet to make any contact), Charlotte swooping in to hold Becky back as Roman covers the cake, as he begins cutting it.

“One day, guys. Can we have one day without you two trying to kill each other?” Charlotte warns.

“He started it!” Becky tries to defend herself, trying to get back on Charlotte’s good side. 

Five pairs of eyes shoot to Becky in an instance, a shared emotion of “are you serious right now?”

“We were all right here, we all witnessed you start it” Bayley interjects, usually a mediating unbiased third party, or even sooner to jump to Becky’s defense over Seth’s.

“Who wants cake?” Roman breaks the moment of silence.

“Me!” Sasha laughs, taking the first slice from Roman’s hand, knowing the moment of hostility has passed.

Becky gets up, pulling Seth into a hug, claiming her apolgy in words “Sorry for trying to murder you, its all out of love” before tickling him long enough for him to wrestle himself free.

Seth pulls free just long enough to stick his hands in the icing, take a clump between his fingers before planting the substance all over Becky’s face.

And one might think Becky would turn as red as her hair, find waves of yellow anger directed at Seth, but she only laughs.

Laughs at the thought of how stupid she probably looks right now. Her legs buckling under her as the laughter takes her over suddenly.

The wave hits solidly again, of yellow joy, as Charlotte pulls her up from the floor, licks her cheek to rid her face of most of the icing.

A pile of purple power in the surge of practiced pleasure, a reminder of the little things that make every moment special, and the people they choose to surround themselves with.

Because Becky shows love in pressing blue bruises into swelling egos long enough to humble feet back into the ground.

Seth sends teasing teal comebacks and encouragement of sassy sapphire as a means of growing connections.

Bayley builds lavender love through a helping hand, a scorching scarlet heart on her sleeve.

Charlotte comes in powered pink, a grace of nurturing shoulders and motherly merit.

Roman’s love language shines in generous green, a quiet in the realm of staying sturdy among powerful winds and changing schemes.

Sasha swims easily in surreal cerulean pools, a tranquility in breathing easy among healing herself, a viridian vow to keep trying in light of the darkness that comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deep breaths
> 
> idk i feel like i have to apologize for how long this took, ya girls been ...depressed  
anyway  
as usual i feel weird saying goodbye to this story as any story, i feel like it represents a moment in my life, an ending, a new beginning, all that deep stuff
> 
> Thank you guys for reading and commenting, fr it keeps me motivated, keeps me wanting to give you content that i actually think is good, idk THANK YOU  
thank you Uma for yelling at me to write everyday even tho i didnt want to  
thank you Hunter for always checking in when i was struggling  
thank you Sith for always listening to my shitty ideas/complaints
> 
> *All i wanted was you will probably be updated/finished pretty soon if yall read that so look out for that too*
> 
> UNTIL THE NEXT FIC

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: eyesfadefromgreentogray  
Feel free to bother me anytime
> 
> comments and kudos always welcome


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